UNCLE  WASH 


UNCLE  WASH 

HIS  STORIES 


BY 


JOHN  TROTWOOD  MOORE 

i, 

AUTHOR  OF 

"The  Bishop  of  Cottontown,"  "A  Summer  Hymnal,"    "Ole 
Mistis,"    "The  Old  Cotton  Gin,"  Etc. 


ILLUSTRATED 


PHILADELPHIA 

THE  JOHN  C.  WINSTON  CO. 

1910 


COPYRIGHT,  1910,  BY 
THE  JOHN  C.  WINSTON  Co. 


'Copyright,  rsfos*  *cn*5;b}» 
TROTWOOD  PUBLISHING'  Co. 

Copyrjg*ht.  *0<£7,  1908^'  igfo;  1,910,, by 
THB  TAYLOR-TROTWO'OD  "PtfriLisHittG  Co. 


FOREWORD 


THE  author's  own  part  in  this  book  has  not  been  so 
much  to  create  as  to  transcribe.  The  effort  was 
not  great  and  the  art  of  it  —  if  it  can  be  said  to  rise  to 
that  dignity  —  makes  no  pretense. 

In  a  more  or  less  strenuous  literary  life,  these  stories 
have  come  into  existence  at  intervals;  and  the  writing 
of  them,  it  may  as  well  be  admitted,  is  in  response  to 
that  spirit  of  fun  which,  is  the  birth  inheritance  of  every 
healthy  Aryan  claiming  that  slope  in  his  land  that  lay 
toward  the  sunrise  of  the  Celt.  To  the  author  these 
stories  have  been  a  mental  unbottling.  It  is  true  he 
had  many  other  ways  of  mental  amusement  —  the 
little  mare  and  the  runabout,  the  colts  in  the  pasture, 
the  pacing  race  at  the  County  Fair,  the  stubble-field 
in  the  fall,  and  Bob  White  flushed  between  wooded 
blue  grass  hills—  these  are  not  to  be  underestimated 
when  play  was  needed  for  the  body. 

The  stories  of  Uncle  Wash  have  been  his  play  of 
the  mind. 

With  this  he  bequeaths  them  to  the  world.  And  he 
will  be  repaid  if  there  shall  be  the  shifting  of  its  mental 
burden  with  a  laugh. 

Like  Lord  Byron,  Uncle  Wash  could  not  tell  a 
story  that  had  not  really  happened.  The  chief  inci 
dents  of  all  of  these  stories  are  true. 

Chief  among  the  tenets  of  that  broader  religion  of 

(3) 


4  FOREWORD 

to-day  is  that  which  recognizes  the  rights  of  laughter — 
that  the  soul,  if  it  stands  under  the  great  burden  of  this 
age  of  effort,  needs  no  less  the  smile  for  its  journey 
than  the  body  needs  its  newer  religion  of  sun-light  and 
air.  J.  T.  M. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

SISTER  CA' LINE'S  ENTICEMENT 9 

BROTHER  WASHINGTON'S  CONSOLATION 21 

THE  WATERMELON  SERMON 32 

A  RACE  FOR  A  VALENTINE 42 

UNCLE  WASH  AND  His  MOTHERS-IN-LAW 59 

How  HE  PLAYED  SANTA  GLAUS 69 

SPOTTYCUSS — His  WORLD  BEATER 77 

Miss  ANT'NETTE'S  PROVIN' 85 

THE     RESURRECTION    OF     BROTHER    WASHING 
TON  100 

How  HE  CAPTURED  A  BUCK 1 1 1 

His  BALKING  MULE 122 

His  LITTLE  PREACHER 129 

Miss  KITTY 138 

THE  EXAMINATION 163 

"  Ho,  EVERY  ONE  THAT  THIRSTETH" 170 

THE  MASCOT  MULE 173 

THE  GHOST  THAT  SAVED  THREE  FLUSHES 182 

THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  COON : 194 

THE  NERVOUS  GOATS 201 

A  CONTEST  IN  THE  KING'S  ENGLISH 209 

PHOSPHATE  IKE 213 

THE  RECONSTRUCTION  OF  MARSE  GEORGE 222 

(5) 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


His  FIRST  KLU-KLUX 23 1 

AT  THE  FAIR 238 

OLD  PUNCH 248 

How  Miss  CELESTE  SOLVED  THE  NEGRO  PROB 
LEM  255 

How  JENNY  McGREW  CAME  TO  HER  OWN 268 

How  HE  RODE  IN  AN  AUTOMOBILE 285 

UNCLE  WASH  ON  THE  PANIC 294 

HOW  BlGBYVILLE  WENT  DRY 3OI 

UNCLE  WASH  ON  GAMBLING 307 

How  UNCLE  WASH  MARRIED  THE  WIDOW 317 


ILLUSTRATIONS 
UNCLE  WASH Frontispiece 

PAGB 

HOLDIN'  DE  SQUIRMIN'  Fox  AT  ARM'S  LENGTH  58 
THE  OLD  MAN  WAS  MAKING  THE  BANJO  HUM  138 
THEN  HE  PINTED  His  BONY  FINGER  AT  KIT.  236 

FUR    I    WAS   TOO  ASTONISHED   TO   GlT   OuTEN 
DE  WAY' 30<5 


SIS  CA'LINE'S  ENTICEMENT 

WHEN  I  get  particularly  blue,  when  life  becomes  a 
burden  and  there  seem  to  be  more  valleys  of 
gloom  in  the  world  than  sunshiny  hilltops,  I  send  for 
Uncle  Wash.  In  a  limited  sense,  I  may  as  well  admit, 
the  old  darky  is  my  partner.  He  lives  in  a  little 
cabin  on  my  place  and  raises  turkeys  and  pigs  for  me, 
as  he  expresses  it,  "on  de  sheers."  It  is  true,  when 
the  dividing  time  comes,  my  part  of  the  turkeys  has 
generally  died  of  the  "limber  neck"  and  my  pigs  have 
gone  the  cholera  route  to  that  bourne  so  often  men 
tioned.  But  I  believe  in  the  old  man,  and  his  solemn 
explanation,  when  I  call  for  a  division,  that  "dat  am  de 
dispensashun  uv  proverdence,  sah,  so  fur  as  yo'  part 
am  consarned,"  is,  to  be  sure,  very  comforting  and 
helpful.  Perhaps  the  truth  is,  I  love  the  old  man  for  his 
quaint,  inexhaustible  fund  of  mirth-producing  stories, 
and  the  fact  that  he  is  the  last  leaf  upon  the  tree  of  a 
civilization  that  has  passed  away  forever. 

In  truth,  the  old  man  is  different.  Body  servant 
of  a  distinguished  Southern  gentleman,  and  associating 
with  the  best  there  was  of  the  Old  South,  he  had 
absorbed  much,  both  of  mannerism  and  of  life,  that 
the  common  field  negro  of  his  race  knew  not  of. 
He  is  different — a  type  that  has  passed — but  a  quaint 
mirror  of  the  rare  old  times  that  passed  with  him. 

And  so  the  old  man  and  I  jog  along  in  this  one-sided 
partnership — this  partnership  wherein  I  fall  heir  to  the 

(9) 


io  -UNCLE  WASH" 

debit  and  he  to  the  credit  account  of  the  ledger,  until 
death  .shall  come  in  and  wind  it  up  forever. 

Perhaps,  too,  I  know  that  the  account  is  not  always 
against  me;  for  many  of  his  quaint  old  stories  of  ante 
bellum  days,  of  chivalrous  men  and  beautiful  women, 
of  a  civilization  as  proud,  gentle  and  refined  as  the 
world  has  ever  known,  linger  with  me  in  my  working 
hours,  and  easily  offset  the  losses  from  the  turkey  crop 
and  the  pig  failure. 

"Now  I  want  the  best  you've  got,"  I  said  to  him  the 
other  night,  "and  spin  it  out  as  long  as  you  please — for 
I  want  to  laugh  till  bedtime." 

"To  be  sho',  to  be  sho',"  said  the  old  man,  thought 
fully,  as  he  lit  his  pipe  and  adjusted  the  copper  wire 
he  always  wore  around  his  neck  for  the  rheumatism. 
"Did  I  ever  tell  you  'bout  de  enticement  uv  Sister 
Ca'line  Hunter?" 

But  I  knew  the  old  man's  ways,  and  that  I  was  not 
expected  to  answer  that  question.  So  I  merely  lit 
my  cigar,  snuffed  out  the  taper  against  the  mantle, 
before  which  we  sat  facing  a  blazing  hickory  fire,  and 
said  nothing. 

"Sister  Ca'line  was  a  grass  widder,"  went  on  the  old 
man,  "and  I  tells  you  right  now,  dat  whenever  a  man 
hooks  up  wid  er  grass  widder  an'  den  specs  ter  git  off 
wid  sumpin'  mor'n  a  blind  bridle  on,  all  I's  got  ter 
say  is,  he's  struck  er  mighty  cold  wind  in  de  back 
stretch  fur  er  fas'  mile. 

"It  was  in  de  Krismus  times  uv  forty-fo'  an', 
kordin'  to  my  custom,  I  had  saunt  my  wife  Dinah 
down  inter  Giles  County  ter  see  her  mother.  I's 


SIS  CA'LINE'S  ENTICEMENT  n 

bin  marrid  meny  years,  an'  I's  allers  made  it  a  pint 
ter  sen'  my  wife  off  at  least  once  a  year  fur  de  benefit 
uv  my  health,"  he  winked.  "Sum  say  de  way  fur  er 
man  to  enjoy  puffeck  health  am  ter  take  callermul  in 
de  spring-time  an'  er  outin'  in  de  fawl;  but  de  bes' 
thing  I  urver  foun'  fur  my  'tickler  constertushun  am 
to  let  my  wife,  Dinah,  take  bofe  de  callermul  and  de 
outin',  an' kinder  leave  me  free  ter  circumnavigate  de 
high  seas  uv  matrimonial  konsolashun,  an'  look  arter 
de  widders  uv  de  church,  es  St.  Paul  enjines  us  decuns 
ter  do. 

"So  es  soon  es  I  got  Dinah  off,  for  de  benefit  uv  my 
health,  es  I  was  sayin',  I  'lowed  ter  give  er  party  fur 
two,  an'  ax  Sis'  Ca'line  Hunter;  but  dat  very  night 
I  tuck  sick  wid  whut  dey  all  thort  wus  yaller  fever. 
But  when  Br'er  Mixpill  Johnson  cum  an'  look  at  me, 
he  say,  'No,'  sez  he,  'you  ain't  got  yaller  fever,  but 
you  is  got  black  fever,  an'  you's  got  it  mighty  bad,  an' 
ef  you  don't  send  fur  Sis'  Ca'line  Hunter  to  nuss  you 
'twell  Sis'  Dinah  cum  home,  you  gwin'ter  die  an'  die 
mighty  hard!' 

"Now,  Sis'  Ca'line,  she  wus  er  mighty  'ligus  'oman — 
mighty  'ligus.  Allers  talkin'  'bout  bein'  'perpared  fur 
de  summons,'  an'  'ready  to  go  when  de  wurd  wus 
given',  an'  'wearin'  de  robe  uv  white  fur  de  comin'  uv  de 
angel/  an'  'listenin'  fur  de  toot  uv  de  horn,'  an'  all  dat. 
But  when  she  cum  in,  thinkin'  I  had  yaller  fever,  she 
jes'  did  squeeze  into  de  door  an'  tuck  her  seat  'way 
off  in  de  corner,  an'  sot  dar  lookin'  at  me  wid  one 
uv  dose  furerway  'ligus  looks,  sorter  lak  she  was  Moses 
an'  I  was  de  promised  land!  Lor',  but  ain't  er  grass 


12  "UNCLE  WASH" 

widder  on  to  de  gait  uv  dis  wurl?  She  jes'  sot  dar 
sateful  lak,  an'  ax  me  how  I  felt,  an'  ef  I  wus  perpared 
ef  de  angul  called,  an'  ef  I  felt  de  'proach  uv  eny  black 
shadders,  an'  all  that.  But  I  knowed  how  ter  manage 
dat,  and  I  sez: 

'  'Sister  Ca'line,  de  'proach  uvde  black  shadder  am 
jes'  whut  I's  longin'  fur.  Can't  you  move  up  yur 
cheer  er  leetle  closer?  It  strikes  me  dat  fur  er  'oman 
es  'ligus  es  you  is,  you  certiniy  am  mo'  feerd  uv  death 
den  enybody  I  ever  seed !' 

"She  seed  I  wus  onter  her  game,  an'  she  laf  an'  say: 
'O,  Br'er  Washington,  you  so  sateful!'  But  she  focht 
her  cheer  up  all  de  same,  an'  I  hed  jes'  got  her  leetle 
han'  in  mine,  an'  wus  axin'  her  ef  she  wouldn't  be  a 
sister  to  me  whilst  Dinah  wus  away,  when  who  should 
walk  in  but  ole  Parson  Whooploud,  an'  den  an'  dar  he 
'cuse  me  uv  de  enticement  uv  Sister  Ca'line  Hunter! 

"  Den  Sis'  Ca'line  she  tuck  to  weepin'  an'  wailin',  an* 
de  parson  he  'lowed  he  gwine  bring  de  whole  thing  up 
fo'  de  church,  'sides  sendin'  er  speshul  messenger  arter 
Dinah.  Up  to  dat  time,  sah,  I  don't  think  I  had  eny 
fever;  but  when  I  heurn  dat  news  my  pulse  went  up 
to  one  hundred  an'  forty  in  de  shade,  an'  den  I  seed 
dat  I'd  played  on  a  ten-ter-one  shot  an'  lost  all  'cept 
my  honor. 

"  But  de  naixt  day  de  parson  cum  'round  an'  'lowed 
dat  he'd  bin  prayin'  over  de  thing,  an'  axin'  fur  heav 
enly  guidance,  an'  dat  de  missionary  society  wus  er 
leetle  short  uv  funds,  an'  dat  ten  dollars  on  my  part 
would  he'p  oil  de  machinery  uv  de  church  mightily, 
an'  go  er  long  way  t'word  easin'  de  conscience  uv  de 


SIS  CA'LINE'S  ENTICEMENT  13 

saints;  an*  dat  ef  it  wan't  forthcomin*  at  once,  he 
reckon'  things  'ud  hafter  be  'lowed  ter  take  dar  cou'se, 
includin'  de  speshul  messenger  fur  Dinah. 

"Wai,  sah,  it  tuck  all  my  'tater  crap,  but  dat  wus 
better'n  Dinah  gettin'  holt  uv  it  an'  takin'  all  my  ha'r! 

"But  it  didn't  end  dar;  in  erbout  er  week  he  cum 
over  an'  say  dat  he  dun  prayed  fur  heavenly  guidance 
ergin,  an'  hitseemterbededispensashunuvproverdence 
dat  de  way  uv  de  transgressor  am  hard,  but  bein'  as 
how  de  fund  fur  super-numerous  preachers  wus  mighty 
low  it  would  take  erbout  five  dollars  to  ease  up  de 
conscience  uv  de  church  on  dat  p'int!  Dat  tuck  all 
my  terbacco  crop,  an'  I  say  ter  myse'f,  sez  I, 'fur  ever' 
ounce  uv  fun  er  man  has  in  dis  wurl,  he  pays  er  pound 
uv  penetence ! 

"Wai,  sah,  you  think  dat  ole  hypercrite  didn't 
cum  over  ergin  next  week,  an'  talk  erbout  de  conscience 
uv  de  church  bein'  so  hurt  dat  nuffm'  but  my  silver 
watch  'ud  ease  it?  Den  de  naixt  thing  dat  went  to 
po'  oil  on  de  troubled  waters  wus  de  speckled  shote, 
an'  den,  arter  he  dun  got  all  he  cu'd,  an'  me  so  skeered 
all  de  time  I  cu'dn't  sleep  fur  fear  it  'ud  git  out,  I  hope 
I  may  die  ef  he  didn't  have  me  read  out  in  de  church  fur 
de  enticement  uv  Sister  Ca'line,  ennyhow! 

"Wai,  I  seed  de  only  thing  I  cu'd  do  wus  to  go  dar 
an'  make  a  clean  breast  uv  it.  I  know'd  I  hadn't  done 
nuffm'  wrong,  nur  Sister  Ca'line,  neether,  an'  hit  gin 
ter  dawn  on  me  dat  sumtimes  de  false  proffits  uv  dis 
wurl  has  a  way  uv  playin'  on  de  conscience  uv  fools  in 
de  name  uv  de  church  fur  de  benefit  uv  dey  own  pockets. 
But  all  dis  time  I  manage  ter  keep  de  proceedin's  frum 


14  -UNCLE  WASH" 

Dinah  by  sendin'  he"  vrrrl  r/ci1  cUv  *u.  ^a:ir> 
my  undyin'  luv,  an  how  me  an'  de  chillun  wus  jes  pinin' 
fur  de  sight  uv  her.  Ef  you  want  ter  keep  yo'  wife 
away  all  winter,"  winked  the  old  man,  "jes'  make  her 
b'leeve  you  can't  git  erlong  widout  her,  dat  de  uner- 
verse  done  stop  waggin'  sense  she  left,  an'  dat  whut  's  left 
uv  it  am  er  black  an'  dismul  void.  Dar's  lot  uv  human 
nacher  in  de  best  uv  wimmin'  an'  dey  mighty  nigh  sho' 
ter  be  allers  anx'us  to  gin  you  jes'  whut  you  don't  want. 

"So  Dinah  jes'  saunt  me  back  de  wurd  dat  she  wus 
havin'  a  mighty  good  time  down  dar  in  er  distracted 
meetin',  an'  fur  me  ter  take  keer  uv  de  chilluns  an' 
behave  myself.  An'  dat  wus  one  time  dat  I  prayed 
dat  dat  distracted  meetin'  might  go  over  twell  July, 
bringin'  in  de  sheaves  ripe  onto  de  harvest.  Wai,  sah, 
es  I  thort,  de  parson  soon  let  it  all  out,  an'  my  miz'ry 
commenced.  I  orter  made  a  clean  breast  uv  it  at  fust, 
an'  faced  de  music.  But  I's  allers  noticed  dat  a  fool 
allers  does  in  de  end  whut  de  wise  man  do  in  de  begin- 
in'.  Ef  you  sow  tho'ns  you  better  be  keerful  ter  wear 
your  brogans ! 

"Dar  wan't  er  nigger  on  de  place  wid  blue  gums  in 
his  head  an'  chicken  feathers  in  his  hair  dat  wan't  too 
much  uv  er  gentleman  ter  speak  ter  me.  Ole  Sis'  Sally 
Ann,  dat  I  hugged  twell  she  wus  too  ole  ter  be  huggable, 
'fused  ter  speak  ter  me.  An'  Betsy,  de  yaller  gal  in 
de  house,  dat  I  kissed  from  Genesis  to  Revelashuns, 
turned  up  her  nose  at  Sis'  Ca'line.  Ole  Br'er  Peter,  dat 
hed  stole  all  ole  marster's  hams,  dat  fawl,  hilt  a  special 
prayer  meetin'  fur  my  convershun,  an'  Parson  Whoop- 
loud  cu'dn't  hear  my  name  widout  crossin'  hisse'f, 


SIS  CA'LINE'S  ENTICEMENT  15 

spittin'  twice  in  a  cross-mark  in  de  road,  an'  sayin' 
de  Lord's  prayer  back'ards  to  keep  off  devils.  An' 
all  uv  'em  sed  I  wus  a  walkin'  pesthouse,  an'  a  pair  uv 
Sodums  an'  Gomorrers  in  brogans. 

*'  'Dis  am  a  queer  ole  wurl, '  soliloquized  the  old  man, 
*  allers  ready  to  giv  de  glad  hand  to  de  devil  in  disguise, 
an'  de  marble  heart  to  de  angul  wid  a  spot  on  his 
gyarments.  Born  a  fraud,  mankind  luvs  ter  be  hum 
bugged.  Ef  you  wanter  work  'im  you  must  flatter 
'im,  an'  ef  you  wanter  use  'im,  you  must  fool  'im,  and 
if  you  wanter  skin  'im  you  must  jine  his  church  an' 
call  'im  'brother. 

"  But  all  dat  time  I  was  sendin'  luv  messages  ter 
Dinah  an'  hopin'  sumpin'  would  break  de  connecshun 
in  de  grapevine  telegraph  'twixt  me  an'  Giles  County. 

"Wai,  sah,  I  don't  kno'  whut  I'd  done  ef  Marse 
Henry  hadn't  cum  home  frum  college  'bout  dat  time. 
He  wus  erbout  seventeen  years  old,  an'  es  full  uv  mis- 
cheef  as  he  cu'd  be.  Did  you  urver  kno'  dat  boy, 
Marse  Henry  Young?" 

"Not  the  present  judge  of  the  Supreme  Court?" 
I  asked. 

"De  same — de  same.  Allers  brainy  an'  full  uv 
mischeef,  an'  de  best  lawyer  ter  gin  advice  in  a  close 
place  I  urver  seed. 

'Wash,'  he  say,  when  I  tole  'im,  'you  am  er'  ole 
fool  an'  no  mistake.  But  ever'body  learns  to  shave  on 
a  fool's  beard,  an'  it's  good  for  you.  All  men  are 
divided  into  two  classes,  de  caught  an'  de  oncaught. 
Now,  you  jes'  go  over  to  de  church  meetin',  hold  your 
tongue,  look  pius  an'  penertent,  an'  leav  de  rest  ter  me. 


16  -UNCLE  WASH" 

Befo'  I'm  through  wid  'em  you  will  find  out  dat  a  man 
ain't  no  wussern  his  neighbor,  arter  all.' 

"Wai,  sah,  when  de  night  cum  fur  de  trial  uv  my 
decunship  an'  de  enticement  uv  Sis'  Ca'line,  ever'body 
wus  dar'  cept  Dinah,  thank  de  Lord.  Sis'  Ca'line  wus 
dar  in  mournin'  fur  her  first  husband,  er  man  dat  hed 
bin  mighty  nigh  ter  me — mighty  nigh.  She  had  on 
her  white  cap  an'  kep'  er  white  handkercher  up  ter 
her  eyes  mighty  nigh  all  de  time,  an'  kerried  a  bottle  uv 
hartshorn  an'  bear's  oil  in  her  han'  ter  be  handy  when 
she  fainted.  Two  sisterin  stood  on  each  side  uv  her 
ter  be  reddy  to  hold  her  when  she  keeled  over.  All 
de  sisterin  wus  mo'  or  less  round  her,  fannin'  her  when 
she  looked  faintyfied  an'  sayin',  To',  innercent  angul!' 
ever'time  she'd  weep.  But  na'ar  one  uv  'em  ever  cum 
nigh  me!  'But  dat's  alright',  sez  I  ter  myse'f, 'dat's 
one  uv  de  ways  uv  de  wurl ;  an'  whenever  de  devil  weeps 
an'  say  he  sorry  dar's  allers  sum  fool  ready  ter  wanter 
lend  'im  a  pair  uv  angels'  wings! 

"Den  dey  had  a  long  prayer  in  which  Br'er  Whoop- 
loud  pertishuned  de  throne  uv  grace,  most  sarchin'ly, 
not  ter  visit  de  wrath  uv  Sodum  an'  Gomorrer  on  de 
whole  church  an'  kommunity  bekase  uv  one  reperbate, 
but  to  spar  him  bekase  uv  de  yudder  hundred  or  mo' 
saints,  dat  allers  walked  in  de  true  way  an'  lived  in  de 
light  an'  wus  so  pius  an'  good  dey  only  need  assenshun 
robes  an'  er  gentle  lift  ter  go  right  up  to  glory! 

"Den  dey  all  sung: 

"'While  de  light  holds  out  ter  burn, 
De  vilest   sinner  may  return/  " 


SIS  CA'LINE'S  ENTICEMENT  17 

"Den  my  miz'ry  commence  sho'  'nuff ;  for  while  dey 
sing  dis,  de  way  dey  piled  hit  onter  me  wus  scan'lus. 
Dey  formed  er  ring  an'  walked  all  roun'  me,  singin', 
an'  ever'  now  an'  den  sum  ole  sister  'ud  look  over  at 
me  an'  say:  To'  sinner,  better  cum  to  de  cross!'  An' 
ernur'r  one  would  crane  her  ole  neck,  an'  say:  'Heaben 
he'p  his  ole  sateful  heart !'  An'  er  young  black  buxum 
sister  'ud  eye  me  sorty  diserp'intedly  an'  say:  'Mussy 
me,  but  I  nurver  'spected  it  wus  in  'im!'  Den  dey 
would  all  git  roun'  Sis'  Ca'line  an'  say:  To',  soiled 
dove,  dat  flew  inter  de  nest  uv  de  fowler!' 

"  But  wusser  miz'ry  wus  in  sto'  for  me  when  Br'er 
Whooploud  riz  ter  preach  his  sermon  on  my  sins.  He 
tuck  fur  his  text :  'An'  de  devil  tempted  de  proffit  in  de 
wilderness,  an'  de  wolf  enticed  de  lamb  frum  de  folV 
An'  den  he  lit  onter  me  in  a  way  dat  'ud  shake  de  faith 
uv  Moses.  De  gist  uv  it  all  wus  dat  I  wus  wussern  de 
devil  hisse'f,  an'  when  he  got  on  dat  subject  he  sho'  did 
make  it  hot.  You'd  er  thort  de  devil  wus  right  dar 
in  dat  house,  an'  he  preached'  bout  'im  so  you  cud 
smell  de  brimstone  es  fur  away  es  de  back  benches, 
whilst  he  made  it  so  hot  it  actually  singed  de  hair  on  de 
heads  uv  de  niggers  in  de  front  pews.  He  preached 
an'  he  preached,  an'  when  he  wound  up  he  sez:  'Brud- 
derin',  dar  ain't  but  one  thing  left  ter  do,  an'  dat  is  fur 
de  devil  ter  cum  in  an'  claim  his  own !' 

"Now,  boss,  you  kno'  er  nigger  jes'  nachully  b'leeves 
in  de  devil,  an'  dat  he  am  er  bein',  walkin'  an'  prowlin' 
round  o'  nights,  seekin'  fur  bad  niggers  lak  er  sheep- 
killin'  dorg  fur  black  sheep.  An'  dis  sermun  had  'em 
worked  up  to  de  right  pitch  fur  de  thing  dat  cum  next. 


i8  -UNCLE  WASH" 

Dem  words  wan't  no  mor'n  outen  'at  preacher's  mouf 
befo'  dar  wus  a  great  kommoshun  in  de  church  do', 
an'  er  deep  voice,  lak  outer  a  yearlin'  ca'f,  sed: 

"  'Yas,  an'  I's  er-comin'!'  An',  fo'  dey  all  know'd 
it,  in  walked  de  devil,  sho'  nuff,  lookin'  turrible  in  de 
dim  light  uv  de  one  candle  in  de  church,  but  fetchin' 
erlong  his  pitchfork,  an'  his  horns  an'  hoof  an'  forked 
tail,  an'  he  wus  a  blowin'  smoke  frum  his  eyes  an' 
mouf  an'  nose.  He  locked  de  only  do'  behind  'im  es 
he  cum  an'  walked  right  up  to  de  pulpit.  Bre'r 
Whooploud  wus  in  it,  but  he  never  stop  to  'spute  de 
quallerfacashuns  uv  de  candidate,  nur  de  p'int  uv 
possesshun,  nur  ter  give  'im  de  right  hand  uv  feller- 
ship.  He  jus'  looked  at  de  devil  once,  his  ole  eyes 
bulged  out,  an'  lit  up  lak  er  oyster  sign  in  a  black  night, 
an'  es  he  jumped  fur  de  winder  he  yelled:  'Lord,  save 
me,  a  miserbul  sinner!' 

"Boss,  you've  heurn  tell  uv  de  devil  breakin'  loose 
in  Georgy,  but  ef  you'd  bin  dar  dat  night  you'd  er 
seen  'im  in  Tennessee.  Men  fainted,  wimmen  hed 
fits,  an'  de  chilluns  jes'  went  inter  er  kommertose  state 
an'  stayed  dar.  Dem  dat  wan't  so  badly  paralyzed  dey 
cu'd  use  dey  legs,  made  a  rush  fur  de  only  winder  in  the 
house.  But  ole  Aunt  Fat  Fereby,  dat  weighed  fo' 
hundred  an'  sixty  pounds,  who  happen  to  be  settin' 
next  to  it,  got  dar  fust  an'  started  through  without  cal- 
culatin'  on  de  rotundity  uv  her  corporosity.  Of  course, 
she  got  stuck  betwixt  de  jice  an'  de  winder  sill,  an' 
shut  off  de  air  an'  de  exit  at  de  same  time.  An'  dar 
she  stuck  wid  her  legs  flyin'  lak  windmills,  an'  tryin' 
ter  kick  de  roof  offen  de  house,  go  through  or  bust! 


SIS  CA'LINE'S  ENTICEMENT  19 

"But  de  devil  wus  mighty  quiet  lak,  'cept  he  kept 
blowin'  smoke  frum  his  eyes  an'  mouf  an'  nose.  We 
cu'dn't  see  'im  good,  es  he  sot  dar  in  de  pulpit  in  de 
shadder,  but  he  did  look  nachul,  ter  be  sho',  an'  I 
'lowed  ter  myself  it  wan't  de  fust  time  he'd  bin  in  de 
pulpit.  Den  he  lifted  a  voice  lak  a  yearlin'  ca'f  ergin 
an'  sed: 

"  Ts  cum  fur  my  reckonin'.  Enybody  dat  moves 
or  tells  me  a  lie  will  die.  Render  unter  me  de  reckurd 
uv  yo'  transgresshuns  as  I  p'int  my  pitchfork  at  you/ 

"Den  he  p'inted  his  pitchfork  at  Br'er  Whooploud 
de  fus'  one,  an'  looked  at  'im  wid  his  turrible  eyes,  an' 
ole  Br'er  Whooploud  groveled  on  de  floor,  an'  cried: 
'Marse  Devil,  hav  mussy  on  me!  I'm  a  chicken  thief,  a 
blackmailer  an'  a  hypercrite,  an'  I's  hugged  ever* 
widder  in  de  church/ 

"Den  he  p'inted  his  pitchfork  at  Betsy  Ann,  an' 
she  tole  how  she'd  stole  ole  Mistis'  yaller  bowl  an* 
teaspoons  an'  ever'thing  else  she  cu'd  git.  Ole  Aunt 
Sally  Ann  'fessed  up  an'  sed  she  wus  too  mean  ter  liv, 
dat  she'd  run  off  wid  ernur'r  'oman's  husband  frum 
Ferginy.  At  dis  ole  Aunt  Polly  chimed  in  an'  sed: 
'Marse  Devil,  I  ain't  nurver  dun  nothin'  much  mean- 
cr'n  stealin'  cold  vittles  frum  de  white  folks,  but  I's 
bound  ter 'f ess  I's  bin  in  sum  mighty  tight  places  whar 
I  didn't  hav  de  grace  ter  git  out  easy!' 

"  'Dat's  me— dat's  me,  now!'  "  shouted  ole  Aunt 
Fat  Fereby,  'es  her  legs  still  flew  'round  an'  'round  dat 
winder  sill.  Even  Sis'  Ca'line  'fessed  up  an'  sed  she'd 
cum  over  ter  my  house  dat  night  to  entice  me,  but  I'd 
got  dar  fust. 


20  -UNCLE  WASH" 

"Wai,  sah,  when  he  made  'em  all  'fess  up  but  me, 
he  shook  his  pitchfork  'round  his  head,  sloshed  his  tail, 
an'  sed:  'But  fur  one  godly,  innercent  man  in  dis  here 
den  uv  sinners,  I'd  take  you  all  wid  me  ter-night. 
Br'er  Washington,'  he  say,  'stan'  up  an'  show  'em  de 
face  uv  er  hones'  man !' 

"Den  es  I  riz  de  devil  walked  out  jes'  lak  he  cum  in, 
an'  when  he  wus  gone,  I  tell  you,  boss,  dey  cum  mighty 
nigh  settin'  me  up  an'  worshippin'  me,  es  dey  did  de 
golden  ca'f  uv  ole.  Dey  'lected  me  Pas'  Gran'  Marster 
uv  Righteousness,  Keeper  uv  de  Seal  uv  Faith,  an' 
Holder  uv  all  de  Excheckers  Widders  dat  cum  inter  de 
church. 

"  An'  dar  wan't  a  chicken  missin'  on  dat  plantashun 
fur  er  year! 

"De  next  day  me  an'  Marse  Henry  went  fishin'  an* 
when  our  boat  wus  way  up  de  lake  I  la'f  an'say  ter  him: 

"Marse  Henry,  jes'  tell  me  how  in  de  wurl  you  done 
it!" 

"Marse  Henry  la'f  an'  say:  'Easy  ernuff,'  sez  he; 
'dem  horns  an'  hoof  an'  tail  you'll  fin'  up  in  de  tan- 
house  lof  on  de  raw-hide  uv  de  red  yellin'  calf.  An' 
all  dat  smoke  wus  jes'  er  good  cigar  I  wus  smokin' 
under  dat  ole  dough-face.  No',  sez  he,  'all  mankind 
am  divided  into  two  classes — de  caught  an'  de  on- 
caught.  De  next  time  don't  you  git  caught,'  and  he 
flung  out  his  line  an'  pulled  in  a  speckled  trout.  Arter 
a  while  he  sez: 

"  '  But,  Wash,  did  you  see  de  Whooploud's  eyes?' 
An'  den  we  bofe  laugh  twell  dat  boat  lakter  turned 
over  in  dat  lake." 


BR'ER    WASHINGTON'S    CONSOLATION 

"Sat'day  night  my  wife  died, 

Sunday    she    was    buried, 
Monday  was  my  kotin'  day 

And  Chewsday  I  got  married. " 

WHENEVER  I  heard  the  old  man  singing  I  knew 
he  was  in  a  reminiscent  mood  and  so  I  put  down 
my  book  and  went  out  to  the  barn,  where  he  was  build 
ing  a  pen  to  put  the  fattening  Berkshires  in.  For  a 
month  these  slick  rascals  had  been  running  in  the  ten- 
acre  lot  planted  in  corn  and,  at  the  "lay-by  plowing/' 
sown  in  peas,  all  for  their  especial  benefit.  The  corn 
had  nearly  ripened  and  the  peas  were  in  the  pod;  and 
now,  day  after  day  they  had  wallowed  in  the  water  of 
the  ten-acre  field  branch  or  torn  down  the  tempting 
corn  stalks  or  eaten  the  juicy  peas  till  their  tails  had 
taken  on  the  two-ring  curl  of  contentment  and  they 
had  grown  too  fat  to  run  in  so  large  a  lot. 

"An'  now  dey  must  be  put  in  de  parlor,"  said  the 
old  man  as  he  proceeded  to  build  their  pen,  "an'  fed  on 
variashun  cake  an'  punkins.  Fust  er  good  dry  pen,  bilt 
on  er  solid  blue  lime-rock,  ef  you  so  forchewnate  es  to 
live  in  Middle  Tennessee,  an'  ef  you  don't  liveheah," 
he  half  soliloquized,  "jes'  bild  it  in  sum  mud  hole  an' 
be  dun  wid  it,  fur  you  ain't  gwin'ter  fatten  your  horgs 
nohow  ef  you  don't  live  in  Tennessee,"  he  said,  with  a 
sly  wink.  "  Den,  arter  you  gits  the  pen  bilt,  bring  up  a 

(21) 


22  "UNCLE  WASH" 

load  uv  yaller  punkins  to  sharpen  up  dey  appletights 
an'  start  'em  off  right;  den  plenty  uv  dis  year's  cohn 
wid  er  sour-meal  mash  ever'  now  and  den  to  keep  'em 
eatin'  good,  an'  den,  chile,  'long  erbout  Krismus  time 
jes'  set  your  mouf  fur  spareribs  an'  sawsages — e — 
yum,  yum,  yum" — and  he  wiped  the  corner  of  his 
mouth  suspiciously." 

"Ole  Naper  cum  to  my  house 

I  thout  he  cum  to  see  me, 
But   when    I    cum   to  find   him   out, 

He's   'swade  my  wife   to   leave  me," 

he  sang  again.  "I'll  tell  you,  sah,"  he  laughed, 
"  I  can't  see  what  fatnin'  horgs  hes  got  to  do  with 
marryin',  but  dat's  what  de  aixpectashuns  uv  dis 
horg-pen  remin's  me  uv  ennyway — 'bout  de  time  I 
was  kotin'  Unk  Peter's  widder,  way  back  in  fifty-fo'," 
he  added  reflectively,  "an'  de  hard  time  I  had  gettin' 
eny  konsolashun  from  dat  ar  'oman.  I  tell  you,  sah, 
it  ain't  easy  to  git  eny  konsolashun  from  er  widder — 
not  nigh  es  easy  es  it  am  frum  er  gal.  Huh!"  he 
ejaculated,  derisively,  "folks  say  it  am,  an'  dat  all 
widders  jes'  watchin'  out  fur  er  chance  to  git  marrid 
ergin,  but  you  jes'  try  to  git  er  widder  to  say  'yas' — 
she'll  jes'  play  erroun'  an'  play  erroun'  de  hook,  and 
fus'  thing  you  know  she's  off,  an'  dar  you  looks  an'  lo ! — 
dun  swallered  de  bait  yo'se'f. " 

"  Befo'  my  wife  died, "  said  the  old  man,  as  he  ran 
his  thumb  down  his  hatchet-blade,  "  I  useter  think  I'd 
nuvver  wanter  git  marrid  eny  mo',  an'  I  had  de  mos' 


BRE'R  WASHINGTON'S  CONSOLATION      23 

dispizerble  contemplashuns  fur  dese  ole  fools  dat  go 
rippin'  erroun',  dyein'  dey  ha'r  an'  writin'  poltry  to  de 
moon  befo'  dey  fus'  wife's  feet  git  cold  good!  Hit's 
all  right  fur  er  young  man  to  do  dat — he  jes'  nacherly 
jucy  an'  he  can't  he'p  hisself.  But  dese  ole  fools  whut 
de  hot  sun  uv  matremony  dun  dried  up,  an'  de  trials 
of  chillun-raisin'  dun  tuck  de  foolishnes'  outen  'em 
an'  monkey-shines  uv  mothers-in-law  dun  kill  'em  in 
de  home-stretch — I  tell  you,  sah,  when  I  see  sech  men 
as  dese,  dat  has  passed  fur  forty-odd  years  as  sober, 
senserbul  men  in  de  kommunity  whar  dey  lives,  all  at 
onct  begin  to  git  gay  an'  boyish  ergin,  er  snortin'  in 
de  valley  an'  er  clothin'  dey  neck  wid  thunder,  an'  er 
hollerin'  kerhonk,  kerhonk,  kerhonk  to  de  captins,  an' 
er  shoutin',  an'  er  gwine  'round  wantin'  to  fight  de 
man-in-de-moon  'kase  he  happen  to  peep  into  dey 
lady-luv's  winder,  it  jes'  makes  me  wanter  go  'round 
de  barn  an'  hug  sum  ole  gray  mule  fur  konsolashun! 

"Whenever  er  ole  man's  luv  begins  to  take  on  er 
secon'  growth,  it  am  den  dat  de  anguls  in  heaven  per- 
pares  to  shed  dey  tears.  Why,  sah,  I's  seed  ole 
fellers  hav  rumertizn  an'  hart-failure  so  bad  dey 
cudn't  creep  to  dey  fus'  wife's  fun'ral,  but  de  naixt 
time  I'd  see  'em,  Gord  bless  yo'  soul,  honey,  dey  be 
runnin'  erroun'  at  sum  pickernick,  fetchin'  water  frum 
de  spring  ever'  five  minutes  fur  sum  sixteen-year-ole 
gal,  cuttin'  watermilions  fur  her,  an'  tryin'  to  meander 
off  in  de  shady  woods  and  pull  up  all  de  hart's-ease  dat 
grows  in  er  ten-acre  woods  lot!  De  rumertizn  all 
gone,  ter-be-sho',  and  de  hart-failure  dun  turned  into 
head  failure,  bless  de  Lawd! 


24  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"Dat's  whut  I  thout,  sah,  but  bless  yo'  soul, 
honey,  my  wife  hadn't  bin  dead  er  week  befo'  I  got 
up  one  mornin'  an'  all  onbeknownst  to  myself  I  foun' 
myself  blackin'  my  shoes!  Cudn't  he'p  it  to  save  my 
life,  sah — jes'  had  to  do  it.  De  naixt  day,  sah,  'tirely 
unbeknownst  to  de  state  ov  my  naturality,  I  kotch  my 
self  in  de  act  uv  puttin'  h'ar-oil  on  my  hair,  cinnermun- 
draps  on  my  handkerchief,  an'  pullin'  off  de  eel-skin 
gyarters  I  dun  bin  wearin'  forty  years  fur  de  rumertizn. 
No  mo'  rumertizn  fur  me;  er  man  nurver  hes  rumertizn 
arter  his  wife  dies — leastwise,"  he  whispered,  know 
ingly,  "not  twell  he  marries  ergin  an'  den  he  hes  it  so 
bad  he  can't  cut  stove-wood  fur  her/' 

"In  er  week  dis' zeeze  tuck  me  so  komplementry 
I  'gun  ter  roach  up  de  ole  muel,  fix  up  de  buggy,  an' 
whitewash  de  cabin.  Dese  am  allers  de  fus'  simptums, 
sah.  I's  knowed  sum  ole  fellers  to  make  dey  house  go 
widout  paint  fur  forty  years,  but  jes'  es  soon  es  dey 
wife  dies,  jes'  watch  'em  an'  see  ef  de  fus'  thing  dey 
don't  do  am  to  paint  up  dat  ole  house  lak  dey  tryin'  to 
ketch  er  angul — huh !  better  had  er  painted  it  er  leetle 
fur  de  fus'  po  angul  arter  dey  fooled  her  inter  hit! 

"  But  de  simptums  come  on  me,  sah,  thick  an'  fas', 
an'  fore  goodness,  sah,  by  Sunday  I  had  it  so  bad  it 
broke  out  in  spots  all  over  me,  wid  gradual  risin' 
uv  de  temperchewin',  dryness  in  de  region  uv  de  sal- 
vashun  glands,  an'  complete  p'ralersis  uv  de  pizzer- 
rinctum  uv  de  sense-bumps !  Gord,  boss,  I  was  mighty 
nigh  insenserbul! 

"It  all  seemed  lak  er  dream  to  me,  an'  I  can't  tell 
'zactly  whut  I  did  do.  I  seemed  ter  be  walkin'  in  er 


BR'ER  WASHINGTON'S  CONSOLATION     25 

gyarden  whar  golden  roses  bloomed  on  peppermint 
candy  vines,  an'  coon-dorgs  wid  diamon'  eyes  wus 
treein'  solid  silver  'possums  up  in  de  'simmon  trees! 

"I  tell  you,  Marse  John,  I  wanted  to  marry!  An* 
de  fus'  thing  I  knowed,  me  an'  dat  ole  muel  wus  gwine 
in  a  peert  trot  up  de  road  t'words  de  cabin  uv  Sister 
Ca'line  Jones,  Unk  Peter  Jones'  widder.  I  felt  sorter 
mean,  an'  I  disremember  sayin'  to  myself:  'Heal,  you 
go,  Wash,  arier  all  yore  good  revolusluns,  de  biggest  fool 
in  de  ban  waggin.'  As  I  rid  off,  I  seed  dat  young  mis- 
cheevus  Mistis  uv  mine,  Miss  Charlotte,  God  bless  her! 
— an'  she  called  out  to  me  kinder  mad  lak,  an'  sed: 
'Unkle  Wash,  I  think  it's  a  shame  you  ain't  put  on 
moanin'  for  Aunt  Peggy.  The  way  you  are  dressed, 
ennybody'd  think  you  are  gwine  to  er  ball!' 

'Lor'  bless  your  sweet  soul,  Miss  Charlotte,'  sez  I, 
'don't  hav  ter  put  on  moanin'  lak  de  white  folks;  it  am 
already  dar,  an'  mo'  dan  skin  deep,  too/  I  sez.  'I  bin 
moanin'  for  Peggy  ever  sense  I  marrid  'er,'  I  sed,  'an' 
now  is  my  time  for  rejicement,  Miss  Charlotte,  an'  I 
gwin'ter  rejice.  'Sides  dat,'  I  sed,  'whilst  I's  moanin', 
all  my  things  gwine  to  rack,  an'  de  chillun's  got  nobody 
to  take  keer  uv  'em  an'  sumpin'  nuther  sho' gwin'ter 
happen,  Miss  Charlotte/ 

"Miss  Charlotte  bleege  to  laf,  an'  old  Marster  he 
spoke  up  an'  say,  'Let  'im  erlone,  Charlotte.  Can't 
you  see  de  ole  fool  has  got  it?  Go  on,  you  ole  idjut/ 
he  sed  to  me,  'an'  marry  sumbody  an'  git  back  heah 
termorrer  wid  enuf  sense  in  yo'  haid  to  run  er  straight 
furrer  fer  de  fall  plowinY  An'  wid  dat  I  lit  out. 

"Now,    Unk   Pete   an'    me,   sah,"    he   explained, 


26  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"  belong  to  de  same  church — de  Candle  Light — an'  to  de 
same  lodge — de  Ainshunt  an'  Honorbul  Order  uv  de 
Bow-legged  Sons  uv  de  Black  Cat— an'  'course  I  ain' 
gwi'  marry  his  widder  now  an'  spile  sum  moral  obser- 
vashun,  so  I  jes'  stopped  at  his  cabin  to  git  his  consent 
fur  me  to  marry  his  widder. 

"Get  his  consent?"  I  asked.  "Why  how  could  you 
get  his  consent  if  he  was  dead?" 

"  Who  sed  he  wus  dead?  "  said  the  old  darky,  quickly. 
"I  nurver  sed  so;  I  sed  she  wus  his  widder!" 

I  tried  to  explain  to  him  that  a  man  couldn't  have 
a  widow  unless  he  were  dead,  but  this  only  made  him 
throw  back  his  head  and  laugh  heartily. 

"Wai,  wal,  wal,  white  folks  got  such  curious  ways 
uv  thinkin'.  Who'd  urver  thout  it?  You  see,"  he 
said  very  solemnly  and  impressively,  "It  wus  dis 
way:  Unk  Peter  wus  gittin'  ole,  an'  went  off  contra- 
wise  to  de  doctrine  an'  marrid  dis  young  'oman. 
Furst  thing  he  know,  he  waked  up  sum  mohnin'  an' 
find  hisself  de  father  uv  ten  chilluns,  sum  uv  'em  his'n 
an'  sum  uv  'em  her'n,  by  her  fus'  husban',  an'  dar  he 
wus  gittin'  so  ole  he  cudn't  s'port  'em.  So  up  he 
jumps  an'  at  de  naixt  meetin'  uv  de  church  he  runs  fer 
de  oflfis  uv  Patr'ark  uv  Santerfercashun,  which,  'kordin, 
to  de  doctrine  uv  Hollerness,  marrid  'im  to  de  church. 
'Course  arter  Unk  Pete  gits  santerfercashun  an' 
marrid  to  de  church,  he  cudn't  hav  eny  uder  wife, 
so  he  hafter  put  Sis  Ca'line  an'  de  chilluns  aside,  which 
made  all  uv  dem  de  widders  uv  de  church.  Don't 
you  ketch  on  to  de  doctrine,  suh?" 

I  told  him  I  caught. 


BR'ER  WASHINGTON'S  CONSOLATION      27 

The  old  man  was  silent  as  if  in  deep  thought.  Then 
he  said:  "I  wus  young  den,  an'  bleeved  ever'thing 
erbout  de  church  an'  de  doctrine  I  ever  heurd,  smelt 
or  dreamed,  but  I  am  older  now,  an'  I's  cum  to  de 
pinted  konklushun  dat  when  er  man  or  er  'oman  gets 
santerfercashun ,  one  or  two  things  done  happen  to'  em : 
Either  de  fiahs  uv  youth  dun  played  out  in  de  bilers  uv 
dar  natral  swashun — de  ole  Adam  in  'em  jes'  peg  out 
from  ole  aige — or  else  dey  am  layin'  low,  Br'er  'Possum, 
fur  de  slickes'  game  dat  ever  wus  played.  I's  kinder 
notis'd  we  all  nacherly  gits  better  es  we  gits  older, 
enyway,  an'  when  we  gits  so  ole  we  can't  sin  no  mo', 
we  mighty  nigh  good-fur-nuffin'.  An'  dars  whar  de 
patr'arks  uv  ole  had  it  on  to  de  res'  uv  us,"  said  the  old 
man  knowingly.  "Jes'  let  de  good  Marster  let  me  live 
heah  erbout  seben  hundred  years  longer,  an'  jes'  watch 
me  set  back  an'  view  unconserned  de  fleetin'  vanerties 
uv  dis  life. 

"  Br'er  Peter  wus  in  deep  prayer  when  I  rid  up  to  his 
cabin,  an*  arter  he  riz  up  from  his  knees  he  blessed 
on  de  top  uv  my  observashun,  giv  me  de  grip  uv  de  Ain- 
shunt  an'  Honorbul  Order  uv  de  Bowlegged  Sons  uv 
de  Black  Cat,  an'  'lowed  he'd  lak  ter  tak  off  my 
sandals  an'  wash  my  feet;  but  I  tole  'im  I  jes'  wash  'em 
'bout  er  month  befo'  an'  didn't  hav  no  time  fur  foolish 
ness;  dat  I  cum  to  dis  cabin  fur  konsolashun  an'  den 
I  jus'  got  offen  dat  muel  an'  plowed  a  straight  furrer 
uv  facts  down  de  row  uv  his  head:  'Br'er  Peter,'  sez 
I,  'de  doctrine  uv  our  church  teach  us  it  am  not  good 
fur  er  man  wid  er  dozen  chilluns  to  liv  erlone  on  one 
side  uv  er  plantashun,  an'  er  nice,  seekin'  lookin'  widder 


28  "UNCLE  WASH" 

'oman  wid  ten  mo'  to  liv  erlone  on  de  yudder  side. 
In  union  dar  am  strength,  in  numbers  dar  am  pros 
perity,  an'  in  Duteromety  dar  am  happiness.  Br'er 
Peter,  I  wants  ter  marry  Sister  Ca'line/  sez  I.  'She 
am  yo'  widder  an'  de  widder  uv  de  church,  but  you 
know  yourself  she  ain't  had  no  sho'  'tall — jes'  ha'f  a 
marrid  life  an'  er  house  full  uv  chilluns — ten  uv  'em, 
all  needin'  sum  lovin'  father's  gidin'  arm,  wid  er 
hickory  attachment,  whilst  my  twelve  ur  fifteen  all 
need  de  spirtool  keer  uv  er  good  muther  ercompament. 
De  cotton  pickin'  seezen  am  'most  on  us,  an'  if  I  kin 
jine  our  forces  I'll  hav  er  lead-pipe  cinch  on  de  cotton 
crap  uv  Tennessee  to  say  nuthin'  'bout  de  fo'teenth 
'mendment  to  de  skule  law  fixin'  de  pro  ratter  uv  all 
householders  raisin'  twenty  or  mo'  widin  de  skule  aige.' 

"  I  tell  you,  sah,  Br'er  Peter  tuck  the  thing  mighty 
hard,  mighty  hard.  He  didn't  wanter  do  dat  thing 
'tall.  But  arter  he  dun  prayed  over  it,  he  cum  out 
wid  er  new  light  in  his  eye,  an'  he  put  his  hand  on  my 
head  an'  bless  me  an'  say,  'Br'er  Washington,  I's 
prayed  over  it.  It  am  de  will  uv  de  Lord.  Lite  on 
dat  muel  an'  seek  your  konsolashun.  Go  in  an' 
receive  de  sanshun  uv  her  retenshun  an'  de  kompli- 
ment  uv  her  adorin'.'  And  he  kinder  wink  his  off  eye 
an'  sed,  'Go  in  an'  win,  fur  you  am  de  Samson  uv  love 
fightin'  de  Phillustines  uv  matrermony;  but  when  you 
cum  to  git  konsolashun  from  er  widder' — an'  dar  he 
wink  hes  eye  ergin — 'use  de  same  weepun  dat  Samson 
used  an'  victory  am  yourn.' 

"  But  when  I  got  to  de  widder's  cabin  an'  tole  her — 
great  Scott,  sah !  she  tuck  it  turribul  hard.  She  didn't 


BR'ER  WASHINGTON'S  CONSOLATION     29 

wan'  marry  'tall.  Leastways  she  made  meb'Ieeveit. 
Hit's  jes'  es  I  tole  you,  sah;  you  hafter  wrastle  mighty 
swift  fur  konsolashun  when  you  goes  to  marry  a  widder. 
'Br'er  Washington,'  she  sez,  Mis  am  so  suddent, 
so  suddent!  Don't  you  think  you'd  be  satisfied  ef  I'd 
continue  in  de  sisterly  relashuns  uv  de  church  wid 
you?" 

"  'Sister  Ca'line,'  sez  I,  sorter  detarmined  lak,  Ts 
had  ten  ever'day  sisters  all  my  life  en  sum  seven  hun 
dred  Sunday  ones.  What  I  now  wants  am  one  wife!' 

"Oh,  I  tell  you,  sah,  you  gotter  shoot  mighty  close 
fur  konsolashun  when  you  wants  ter  marry  a  widder! 

"We  kept  it  up  for  hours,  she  argyfyin'  an'  me  argy- 
fyin',  she  prayin'  an'  me  prayin'.  I  tell  you,  she  wus 
er  speedy  filly,  an'  she  had  no  noshun  uv  quittin'. 
We  went  round  de  fus'  quarter  uv  de  last  mile  nose 
and  nose — argyment  ergin  argyment,  prayer  ergin 
prayer.  I  thout  sho'  she  had  me  distanced  onct  when 
she  fotch  out  de  scriptures  on  me  an'  turned  to  de 
twenty-second  chapter  uv  Exerdust  an'  sed:  'Br'er 
Washington,  read  fur  yo'self:  'Thou  shall  not  afflict 
any  widder  or  fatherless  chile.'  But  I  turned  over  to 
Timerthy,  de  fifth  chapter  an*  de  third  verse,  an'  sez 
I/  Sister  Ca'line,  whut  you  read  am  Ole  Testament. 
It  am  anshunt  histery.  Heah  am  de  New  Testament, 
heah  am  de  new  doctrine;  'Honor  widder s  dat  am 
widders,  indeed.'  "Oh,  I  tell  you,  Marse  John," 
laughed  the  old  man,  "I  sho'  hung  onto  de  sulky 
wheels  uv  her  contenshun  wid  de  wings  uv  my  orthor- 
teries — you  gotter  hav  sum  speed  lef  fur  de  home 
stretch  ef  you  wants  ter  beat  er  widder  home ! 


30  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"An*  so  we  went,  'round  an'  'round,  wheel  ergin 
wheel,  an  both  drivin'  fur  life,  she  quotin'  scriptures 
and  argyfyin'  an'  me  comin'  back  wid  Numbers  an' 
Duterrumetics — an'  sumtimes  things  dat  wus  Rever- 
lashuns  to  her!  At  de  half  I  got  her  tired,  at  de  three- 
quarters  she  quit  an'  jes'  befo'  she  got  to  de  wire  she 
giv  up  wid  er  tired,  tangled  break,  an'  sed: 

"  'Brer  Washington,  it  am  de  Lord's  will.' 

"Oh,  I  tell  you,  sah,  you  got  ter  use  a  mighty  keen 
switch  uv  beseechment  in  de  race  ef  you  wanter  lead 
er  widder  down  de  home  stretch ! 

"But  goodness  grashus!"  he  said,  as  if  suddenly 
remembering  something.  "I'd  better  be  buildin'  dis 
pen  or  we  won't  hav  enny  sawseges  fur  Kristmus," 
and  he  began  to  saw  energetically. 

"  Hold  on,"  I  said,  "You  never  told  me  whether  you 
married  the  widow  or  not. " 

He  looked  at  me  in  indignant  astonishment — 
"Law,  law,  law,"  he  said,  "white  folks  got  such  cu'is 
ideas.  In  course  I  did — marrid  her  dat  night  an'  tuck 
'er  home  de  naixt  day;  ain't  I  bin  tellin'  you  whut  er 
hard  time  I  had  gettin'  konsolashun  frum  dat  ar 
'oman?" 

He  sawed  vigorously  away  for  awhile,  but  I  could  see 
he  wished  to  tell  something  else.  Finally  I  said: 

"Well,  go  on,  I'm  waiting." 

He  turned  around  quickly,  laid  down  his  saw, 
laughed,  and  said:  "How  de  wurl  did  you  know  dar 
was  enything  else?  Bless  my  life,  sah,  but  de  very 
look  uv  er  white  man  am  er  search  warrant  to  de 
nigger's  soul.  Ef  you  bleege  ter  hab  it,  heah  it  am," 


BR'ER  WASHINGTON'S  CONSOLATION     31 

he  said  as  he  looked  slyly  around:  "I  hadn't  been 
married  to  dat  'oman  but  two  years  befo'  I  had  to  run 
fur  er  offis,  too." 

"What  office?"     I  asked. 

He  grinned  sheepishly. 

"Patr'ark  uv  de  Santerfercashun, "  he  said,  "I  beat 
Unk  Peter  fur  dat  offis,  an'  got  even  wid  'im  at  his  own 
game," 

"Lemme  tell  you,  chile,"  he  added,  impressively, 
"two  years  uv  konsolashun  frum  er  widder  will  make 
a  dead  man  or  a  Patr'ark  outen  'most  ennybody," 
and  he  resumed  his  sawing  with  a  vigor. 


THE  WATERMELON  SERMON 

WATERMELON  time  is  in  full  blast  in  Ten 
nessee  now.  Ordinarily,  the  whites  in  the 
South  cease  to  eat  watermelons  after  the  fifteenth  of 
September,  because  they  know  that  as  soon  as  the  cool 
nights  begin  every  melon  contains  a  hundred  chills. 
But  not  so  with  the  darkey.  A  chill  rattles  as  harm 
lessly  off  the  armour  of  his  constitution  as  buckshot 
from  the  back  of  the  Olympia.  He  can  absorb 
miasma  like  a  sponge,  and,  like  it,  grow  fat  as  he 
absorbs.  The  negro,  then,  eats  his  melon  until  the 
November  frosts  kill  the  vines. 

And  a  great  treat  it  is.  Did  you  ever  wander  over 
the  fields,  way  down  South,  after  the  cotton  was  all 
picked,  and  the  November  breezes  came  cool  and  lad- 
ened  with  that  delicate,  indescribably  rare  flavor  the 
frost  gives  when  it  first  nips  the  mellow-ripe  muscadine? 
You  have  shouldered  your  gun  and  gone  out  after  old 
Mollie  Cotton  Tail.  It  was  cool  and  crisp  when  you 
went  out,  but  toward  noon  it  has  grown  hot  again. 
Flushed  and  tired,  you  stop  to  rest  by  the  big  spring 
that  flows  from  under  the  roots  of  the  big  oak  near  the 
cotton  field.  In  the  shadow  of  that  oak,  half  hid  in 
the  frost-bitten  weeds,  you  find  a  little  striped  water 
melon — a  guinea  melon,  as  the  darkies  call  it — a  kind 
of  a  volunteer  melon  that  grows  in  the  cotton  every 
year,  the  first  seeds  of  which  were  brought  by  some 
Guinea  negro,  from  the  coast  of  Africa,  when  he  first 

(32) 


THE  WATERMELON  SERMON  33 

came  over  to  servitude,  with  silver  rings  in  his  nose  and 
ears.  And  though  he  failed  to  bring  his  idols  and  his 
household  gods  along  with  him,  yet  he  did  not  forget 
the  melon  of  his  naked  ancestors.  Planting  it  as  he 
hoed  his  first  crop  of  cotton  for  a  new  master,  it  has 
never  deserted  him  since,  and  so,  year  after  year,  it 
comes  up  amid  the  cotton,  to  remind  him  of  the  days 
it  grew  wild  in  a  sunnier  clime. 

And  there  you  find  it  this  November  morning.  Boy 
like,  you  pounce  on  it  with  a  shout  and  soon  it  is  laid 
open,  as  red  as  your  first  love's  lips  and  as  sweet ;  and 
so  cold  it  seems  to  have  been  raised  in  the  deep-delved 
cellars  of  all  the  centuries.  I  am  sorry  for  the  boy  who 
has  grown  to  be  a  man  and  never,  in  a  November 
morning's  hunt  after  Old  Mollie,  had  the  exquisite 
sweetness  of  this  satisfying  surprise — the  like  of  which 
is  not  equalled  by  the  sweetness  of  any  other  surprise  on 
earth. 

Every  darkey  of  any  standing  in  Tennessee  "gives  a 
treat"  at  least  once  in  his  life.  He  will  stint  and  econ 
omize  for  months  to  save  money  enough  to  invest  in 
watermelons  and  tartaric  acid  (the  acid  makes  the 
lemonade).  Then,  when  the  glorious  day  arrives, 
Nero,  giving  free  entertainment  to  the  citizens  of 
Eternal  Rome,  is  not  in  it  with  that  darkey.  Hence 
forth  he  can  get  anything  in  that  community  he  wishes, 
from  constable  to  presiding  elder,  while  the  widows 
of  the  church  are  "his'n"  by  a  large  majority! 

I  had  heard  that  old  Wash  was  going  to  run  again  for 
the  "  deaconship  of  Zion  "  over  in  the  coon  district  of  Big 
Sandy,  and  that  he  was  going  to  give  his  annual  treat. 


34  "UNCLE  WASH" 

These  had  always  passed  off  beautifully  and  ended 
in  the  unanimous  election  of  the  old  man  to  the  office, 
and  anything  else  he  wanted.  I  thought  it  was  all  over 
and  entirely  harmonious  until  he  came  in  the  other 
night,  looking  like  Montejo's  flag-ship  after  Dewey's 
ten-inch  shell  went  through  her,  "a-rippin'  out  her  very 
innards" — as  Old  Wash  himself  described  it — "from 
eend  to  eend. " 

But  when  I  saw  the  old  man,  creeping  into  my 
library,  I  was  certain  he  was  in  the  last  stages  of  Asiatic 
cholera,  and  I  rang  the  telephone  hastily  to  get  my 
family  physician.  But  he  feebly  raised  his  hand,  and 
beckoned  me  to  desist. 

"No,  no,  Marse  John;  he  can't  do  me  no  good — no 
good,"  as  he  feebly  sank  into  a  chair.  Then  he  whis 
pered: 

"Jes  a  drap,  a  leetle  drap,  on  my  tongue, — jes'  to 
let  the  old  man  shuffle  off  dis  mortal  coil  wid  a  good 
taste  in  his  mouth.  It's  all  I  wants." 

Under  the  stimulant  of  that  eternal  beverage  of 
moonlight  and  melody,  he  revived  a  little. 

"What's  the  matter  with  you?  Anybody  been 
giving  you  a  hoodoo,"  I  asked. 

"No,  no,  sah,— I— I—  I  gin  a  treat  at  Big  Sandy." 

"Well,  you  have  given  many  a  treat  at  Big 
Sandy.  Why  should  this  one  make  you  look  like  a 
piney-wood  coal-kiln  after  a  cyclone  had  struck  it?" 

It  took  another  dose  from  my  side-board  bottle  to 
put  enough  life  into  the  old  man  to  make  him  take  any 
interest  in  things.  Then  he  brightened  up  and  said: 

"Dat's  jes'  hit — a  man  may  go  on  doin  '  de  same 


THE  WATERMELON  SERMON  35 

trick  year  arter  year,  ontwel  it  looks  lak  he  cud  do  it 
wid  his  eyes  shet,  an'  den  at  last,  if  he  ain't  mighty 
keerful,  hit '11  buck  and  fling  'im!  De  hardes'  luck, 
I  take  it,  in  dis  wurl',  is  when  a  man  dun  shuck  de 
dice  uv  success  ontwel  dey  seem  to  bob  up  at  his  word, 
only  to  play  off  on  him  an'  bust  'im  es  his  palsied  han* 
shakes  'em  fur  de  las'  time." 

His  tears  were  flowing  so  freely  and  his  remarks 
seemed  so  true  and  heartfelt,  I  did  not  have  it  in  me 
not  to  brace  him  up  with  another  pull  from  the  side 
board  bottle.  Then  I  saw  he  was  ripe  and  reminiscent, 
and  I  lit  my  cigar,  struck  an  easy  attitude,  and  let  him 
do  the  rest : 

"On  de  Sundy  befo'  de  fust  Mundy  uvde  full  moon 
in  September,"  he  went  on,  "cum  off  de  'lection  fur 
'ziden  elder  uv  Zion,  an'  de  next  day  am  de 
day  sot  by  law  fur  de  'lection  of  jestus  uv  de 
peace.  So  las'  Sat'd'y  I  gin  a  treat.  I  axed  ever' 
nigger  in  de  deestrict  dar,  an'  all  de  members  uv 
Zion,  an*  Br'er  Johnsing  wus  to  preach  de  water- 
milion  sermon. 

"Ain't  nuver  heurd  uv  de  watermilion  sermon? 
Hit's  de  sermon  preached  at  de  feast  uv  de  watermilion 
jes'  befo'  de  new  moon  in  September,  an'  it  am  one 
uv  de  doctrines  uv  Zion  to  kinder  take  de  place  uv  de 
feast  uv  de  Passover  'mong  de  Jews — only  in  dis  case 
we  don't  pass  over  nuffin',  'specially  de  watermilions. 
Now,  hit  tain't  ever'  nigger  kin  preach  de  watermilion 
sermon.  Hit  takes  a  mighty  juicy  nigger  to  do  hit, 
yallar  with  dark  stripes,  juicy  at  de  core,  full  of  tears 
an'  sweet  penertence  an*  easy  laid  open  by  de  blade 


36  "UNCLE  WASH" 

of  grace,  an'  brudder  Johnsing  am  de  slickest  one  I 
ever  seed  at  it. 

"Now,  dat  wus  my  time  to  git  in  my  fine  Italyun 
ban',  an'  so  I  gin  it  out  that  hit  wus  to  be  my  treat,  an* 
I  axed  all  de  voters  uv  de  deestrick  an'  all  de  members 
uv  Zion  ter  be  on  han'  fur  de  revival  uv  de  speerit  an' 
de  refreshment  uv  de  flesh. 

"'Cordin'  to  my  custom,  jes'  befo'  de  time  fur  de 
sermon  I  had  all  de  watermilions  laid  out  on  de  grass, 
one  hundred  uv  de  bigges'  an'  fattes'  ones  you  ever 
seed.  You  see,  I  am  constertushunally  upposed  to 
long  sermons,"  he  winked,  "an'  I  knowed  dey  wa'n't 
a  nigger  livin'  c'ud  preach  over  ten  minnits  wid  all 
dem  watermilions  a-layin'  dar  a-winkin'  at  'im  an' 
waiting  to  be  led,  lak'  lambs,  to  de  sacrifice.  Does  you 
see  de  p'int?" 

I  saw  it. 

"Wai,  suh,  you  orter  jes'  heurd  de  prayer  Br'er 
Johnsing  put  up — it  wus  short,  but  mighty  sweet.  De 
flavor  uv  de  watermilions  seem  ter  git  inter  hit,  an' 
de  'roma  uv  hits  juice  b'iled  outen  his  mouth.  Marse 
John,  you've  seed  dese  kinder  preachers  dat  talks  to  de 
good  Lord  wid  all  de  easy  fermileriaty  uv  a  deestrick 
skule-teacher  axin  de  president  uv  de  skule-board  fur 
what  he  wants,  an'  wid  all  de  sassy  assurance  uv  de 
silent  partner  in  a  lan'-offis  bisness,  ain't  you?  Wai, 
dat's  de  way  Br'er  Johnsing  prayed,  an'  I  wus  de 
speshul  objec'  uv  his  conversashun  wid  de  Almighty 
dat  day.  He  tole  'im  whut  I'd  dun  fur  dat  com 
munity,  informed  'im  very  posertively  uv  de  fac'  dat 
I  wus  a  godly  man,  refreshed  His  mem'ry  in  a  gentle 


THE  WATERMELON  SERMON  37 

way  consarnin'  sum  uv  my  long-furgotten  deeds  uv 
cheerily,  an'  gin  Him  sum'  good,  brotherly  advice  on 
how  to  git  even  wid  me,  an '  in  a  measure  pay  off  de 
debt  of  gratitude  He  owed  me  by  makin'  it  His  will  dat 
I  wus  erg'in  to  administer  de  law  uv  de  Ian',  both 
spiritual  an'  temper'l,  an'  fur  ernudder  twelvemonth 
ter  be  de  venerbul  ram  uv  de  flock  uv  Zion,  to  lead 
His  sheep  to  de  fold  an'  by  de  still  waters.  Wai, 
suh,  when  he  finish,  mighty  nigh  ever'  nigger  dar  said 
Amen,  an'  den  dey  lick  dey  chops  an'  look  sorter 
dreamy  lak  over  whar  de  watermilions  lay'n  de  col' 
spring  branch. 

"Dis  wus  my  time  to  spring  de  s'prise  uv  de  evenin' 
on  'em,  dat  I'd  fixed  up.  An'  so  I  riz  up  wid  de  most 
sancterfied  look  on  I  cu'd  git,  one  uv  dem  onworthy, 
miser-bul-sinner  sorter  looks  dat  we  elders  allers  carry 
aroun'  in  our  coat  pockets  along  wid  our  bandanna 
han' kerchiefs  fur  eny  emergency,  an'  I  sez:  'Brud- 
ders  an'  sistrin,  befo'  we  listen  to  de  soulful  sermon 
in  store  fur  our  spiritual  natures,  which  Br'er  Johnsing 
gwin'ter  giv  us  in  his  ellerquent  way,  I's  sprung  a 
leetle  s'prise  on  you,  an'  I  wants  you  all  to  retire  wid 
me  an'  refresh  de  innard  man  a  leetle.  Brudderin', 
knowin'  my  onworthiness  an'  de  many  obligashuns  I 
am  under  to  dis  enlightened  community  uv  Christian 
saints  an'  godly  men  an'wimmen,  I's  made  two 
bar'ls  uv  ice-cold  lemmernade,  an'  you'll  find  'em  a- 
settin',  es  a  big  s'prise,'  sez  I,  'on  de  houn's  uv  my 
ox-waggin,  in  de  cool  shade  by  de  spring,  wid  plenty 
uv  tin  dippers  fur  all.  We'll  now  adjourn  twenty 
minnits  fur  refreshments. ' 


38  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"Wai,  suh,  you  sh'ud  a  heurd  de  shout!  Ef  de 
'lection  bed  cum  off  den,  I'd  a  got  ever'  vote  in  de 
deestrick  an'  a  fair  sprinklin'  uv  sum'  in  all  de  yud- 
ders.  I  went  wid  'em  an'  drunk,  too.  An'  we  all 
drunk  ter  one  ernudder's  health.  I  drunk  to  Sister 
Ca'line,  an'  Br'er  Johnsing  he  drunk  to  Dinah,  an' 
de  leetle  niggers  drunk,  an'  de  ole  niggers  drunk,  de 
gals  an'  de  boys.  I  hilt  up  my  dipper  an'  laugh,  an' 
sed  to  Br'er  Johnsing,  'Br'er  Johnsing,  here's  to  you/ 
sez  I,  'an'  all  dat  goes  up  must  go  down.'  An'  wid 
dat  I  swallered  down. 

"Den  Br'er  Johnsing — he's  mighty  funny — an'  he 
hilt  up  his'n  and  laugh,  an'  say:  'Br'er  Washington, 
here's  to  you,'  sez  he,  'an'  all  dat  goes  down  nurver 
comes  up  ergin.'  An'  den  we  all  laugh. 

"  But  dat  wus  one  time  he  wus  turribly  mistaken,  es 
you  will  see. 

"Wai,  suh,  when  we  all  hed  drunk  enough  we  went 
back  to  hear  de  watermilion  sermon,  an'  den  eat  de 
fruit  uv  whut  we  heurd.  'Tain't  ever'  man  kin  say 
dat,  dat  he  eats  de  fruit  uv  whut  he  hears;  digests  de 
fustly,  an'  de  secondly,  an'  de  thudly,  assimmer- 
lates  in  de  juicy  rime  uv  de  tangerbul  thing,  de  logical 
konclushun  uv  de  interlecshul  fac.'  An' darfore  I've 
allers  sed  dat  drawin'  yo'  konclushuns  frum  de  heart 
uv  a  watermilion  makes  de  bes'  sermon  in  de  wurl'. 

"  I  b'leeve  I  tole  you,  dat  dat  lemmernade  wus  in 
tended  fur  a  s'prise  fur  'em,  didn't  I?" 

"Yes,  I  believe  you  mentioned  that  it  was  a  little 
surprise  of  yours  in  store  for  them." 

The  old  man  groaned.     "Marse  John,  fur  heaben's 


THE  WATERMELON  SERMON  39 

sake,  annudder  drap  outen  dat  bottle!  I'll  hafter 
brace  up  erg'in  to  tell  de  sorrowin'  scene  dat  follers. 
Thankee,  thankee!  I'm  better  now,  an'  maybe  I  kin 
finish,  fur  dat  lemmernade  turned  out  to  be  de  bigges' 
an'  sorrerfullest  surprise  dat  ever  come  down  a  pike. 

"  Br'er  Johnsing  tuck  fur  his  tex'  de  sermon  uv  Noah 
an'  de  ark  an'  whilst  Noah  wus  de  man  menshuned, 
hit  wus  plain  dat  I  was  de  applercashun.  He  went  on 
to  show  dat  I  wus  a  godly  man,  jes'  lak'  ole  Noah, 
an'  dat  I  wus  to  de  community  uv  Big  Sandy  whut 
Noah  wus  to  Jeerruselum.  He  was  makin'  it  short 
but  er-gwine  in  two-minnit  time,  er-pacin'  lak'  ole  Jo 
Patchen  at  er  matternee  fur  er  silver  cup  an'  wreath  uv 
roses,  an*  den  all  at  onct  he  lifted  up  his  voice  an'  sed: 
'Yes  brudderin,  de  waters  uv  de  g-r-e-a-t  deep  riz 
up,  an  de  bottom  drop  outen  de  clouds;  de  w-i-n- 
d-e-r-s  uv  heaben  wus  flung  open,  an'  de  upheaval 
uv  de  u-n-e-v-e-r-s-e  begun— 

"Dat  wus  es  fur  es  he  got,  befo'  de  word  upheaval 
wus  outen  his  mouth,  sho  'nufT,  de  upheaval  did  begun. 
I  seed  'im  stop  so  suddenly  he  kicked  up  behind,  clap 
his  hands  on  his  stummick  an'  try  to  bolt  fur  a  locus' 
thicket,  but  he  c'udn't — he  jes'  turned  a  complete 
summerset,  athrowin'  up  his  immortal  soul  es  he  turned. 
Den  I  heurd  a  turrible  commoshun  in  de  congregashun, 
an'  I  look  erroun',  an'  ever'  nigger  dar  wus  in  de  same 
fix  es  Br'er  Johnsing.  Dey  wus  whoopin',  an'  barkin', 
and  layin'  out  in  ever'  kinder  way,  an'  all  on  'em  bent 
on  de  same  thing.  An'  whut  dey  wus  doin'  to  dat 
groun'  wus  a-plenty!  Dey  thought  dey  was  pizened 
an'  wus  gwin'ter  die,  an'  den  sech  s'archin'  prayers  es 


40  "UNCLE  WASH" 

went  up  to  de  throne  uv  grace,  mixed  in  wid  moans,  an ' 
groans,  an'  ice-cold  lemmernade  dat  seem  to  think  hit 
wus  time  ter  rise  erg'in  and  fetch  ever'thing  else  frum 
de  grave  along  wid  it.  By  dis  time  I  wus  so  'stounded 
I  didn't  kno'  whut  ter  do.  I  look  erroun'  an'  I  seed 
dat  me  an'  ole  Aunt  Fat  Fereby  wus  de  onlies'  ones 
dat  wa'nt  trying  to  turn  inside  out.  She  wus  lookin' 
mighty  ashy  erroun'  de  gills,  but  she  brace  hers'f  up 
an'  started  out  ter  raise  dat  good  ole  hymn: 

"How  firm  a  foundation '- 

But  she  hadn't  more'n  got  to  'foundashun'  befo  her 
foundashun  wus  shu'k,  I  seed  her  gag  an'  double  up 
an'  start  in  on: 

'My  risin'  soul  leaps  up  to  sing, 
A  song  of  praise  ter  day. ' 

'Bout  dat  time  I  felt  a  'tickler  kinder  mizry  in 
my  own  innards,  an'  de  nex'  thing  I  disremember  I 
had  Sister  Fereby  'round  'de  neck  an'  we  wus  singin' 
dat  hymn  tergedder.  Lor'  !  hit  wus  awful.  I's 
seed  menny  a  sight,  but  I  nurver  expect  ergin  ter  see 
three  hundred  an'  sixty-five  niggers  throwin'  up  at  de 
same  time.  When  sum'  on  'em  got  dey  secon'  wind 
dey  wanted  to  lynch  me,  but  by  de  time  dey  got 
erroun '  to  me  wid  a  rope  dey '  cided  I  wus  too  nigh  dead 
to  need  killin ',  and  by  dis  time  dey  all  had  to  'zamperfly 
de  truth  uv  de  biblical  sayin'  about  de  dog  an'  de 
thing  he  would  go  back  to.  By  dis  time  ever'  doctor 
in  de  country  wus  dar,  fetchin'  all  de  querrintine  offer- 
cers,  an'  pest-tents,  an'  disenfec-t^nts,  an'  perparin' 


THE  WATERMELON  SERMON  41 

fer  chol'ra  an'  fever.  An'  den  we  foun'  out  what  ailed 
us." 

"In  the  name  of  heaven,  what  was  it?"  I  asked 
eagerly. 

The  tears  rolled  down  the  old  man's  cheeks  as  he 
feebly  begged  for  another  drop  to  enable  him  to  finish 
his  tale.  Then  he  said: 

"Ain't  I  dun  tole  you  hundreds  uv  times  it  am  de 
leetle  mistakes  we  make  in  life  dat  turns  de  tide? 
Ain't  I?  Wai,  dat's  whut  ruined  me  dat  day,  an' 
terday  I  am  a  man  widout  offis  an'  widout  honor  in 
my  ole  age.  Dat  mornin',  'stead  uv  gwine  down  to  de 
sto'  myse'f  to  get  de  poun'  uv  tartar  acid  ter  make  up 
dat  lemmernade  wid,  I  saunt  dat  trifflin'  Jim  Crow 
gran'son  uv  mine,  an'  he  got  de  names  twisted,  an' 
'stead  uv  fetchin'  me  back  tartar  acid,  he  fotcht  me 
back  a  poun'  uv  tartar  emetic,  an'  I  didn't  do  a  thing 
but  make  up  dat  lemmernade  wid  it!" 

"But,  surely,  they  wouldn't  treasure  up  such  a 
a  mistake  against  you,  seeing  that  you  suffered  with 
the  rest,"  I  said. 

"Marse  John,"  said  the  old  man,  rising,  "how  long 
you  gwine  ter  live  wid  niggers,  an '  den  hafter  be  tole 
over  an'  over  ergin  de  same  thing?  In  course,  dey 
didn't  beat  me  fur  offis  on  ercount  uv  dat  fool  mistake, 
but  jes'  lemme  ax  you,  whar  is  de  nigger  livin'  dat 
gwin'ter  vote  fur  eny  man  dat'd  lay  out  a  hundred 
watermilions  in  de  spring  branch,  let  'em  look  at  'em 
a  hour,  an'  den  turn  dat  nigger's  stummick  into  a 
green  persimmon  fur  a  week?  Whar  is  he,  I  ax?"  And 
the  old  man  crept  feebly  out  to  find  him  a  cheap  coffin. 


A  RACE  FOR  A  VALENTINE 

TT7HEN  I  looked  out  over  the  meadow  near  my 
^  *  window  the  other  day,  I  saw  some  field  larks 
there.  One  yellow-breasted  fellow,  as  trim  and  proud 
as  a  race  horse  in  racing  form,  sat  on  a  clump  of  sedge- 
grass,  the  sentinel  of  a  pretty  group  of  other  yellow- 
breasts  who  were  feeding  around.  They  had  left  the 
fields  down  by  the  woods  early,  and  I  wondered  why 
it  was.  That  night  I  asked  Uncle  Wash. 

"Look  heah,  Marse  John,  don't  you  kno'  dey  am 
thinkin'  'bout  Valentine  Day,  an'  how  dey  gwine  mate 
off  by  dat  day?  Hue' cum  you  done  forgit  dat?" 

"You  don't  mean  to  tell  me  they  are  obliged  to  mate 
off  by  that  day,  whether  they  wish  to  or  not,  do  you?" 
I  asked. 

"In  co'se  I  does — whuther  dey  wants  to  or  not. 
But  dey  most  generally  allers  wants  to.  An'  so  does 
enybody  else  dat  has  got  eny  sense.  You  ain't  nurver 
heurn  tell  of  any  old-maid  birds,  has  you?" 

"No"— I  smiled— "I  have  not." 

"Nor  any  old-maid  niggers,  nurther,  is  you?" 

I  had  to  laugh  outright  at  this.  But  upon  my  life, 
I  couldn't  remember  ever  to  have  heard  of  one. 

The  old  man  chuckled.  "In  co'se  you  ain't.  De 
nearer  you  gits  to  nachur,  de  happier  you  gwin'ter  find 
folks  'ull  be,  an'  de  fewer  rules  an'  regulashuns  you'll 
find  dey'll  hav  to  go  by.  It's  only  white  folks  dat  hav 
ole  maids  an'  ole  bachelors.  It's  only  some  uv  dem 

(42) 


A  RACE  FOR  A  VALENTINE  43 

dat  seem  to  konlude  dat  de  Lord  wus  kinder  off  his  base 
when  he  put  us  heah  wid  de  nachul  instinct  fur  matri 
mony  in  our  hearts,  an'  dat  ole  Marse  Noah  was  talkin' 
through  his  hat  when  he  told  us  to  be  happy  and  mul- 
terply  on  de  face  uv  de  yearth. 

"And  does  you  kno'  whut's  de  most  buterful  sight 
in  de  wurl  to  de  ole  man?"  he  asked  presently,  with 
some  enthusiasm.  "  Hit's  de  sight  of  a  beautiful,  full- 
blooded,  high-minded  young  'oman,  who  am  nachul 
an'  good  an'  treads  de  yearth  lak  she  know  God  made 
her  to  be  queen,  sum  day,  uv  some  man's  home  an' 
heart,  an'  de  muther  uv  God-fearin'  hones'  men  an' 
wimen. 

"And  does  you  kno'  whut's  de  holiest  sight  in  de 
wurl?  Some  church  steeple,  dried  up  ole  maid,  or 
some  uv  dese  heah  new-fangled  interlecshul  wemen, 
forever  sputin'  'bout  de  laws  uv  progress,  an'  uglier 
den  a  burnt  hole  in  a  blanket?  No;  but  hits  dat 
same  high-minded  gal,  when  she  reign  de  queen  uv  her 
home,  an'  stamps  de  little  gold  coins  uv  her  fiah-side 
wid  de  eagle  uv  her  nobilerty. 

"Dat's  de  holiest  thing  in  de  wurl.  Dem's  de  sho' 
nuff  coins  uv  de  republic,  de  bonds  uv  de  realm  an* 
de  dollars  uv  our  daddies. 

"  But  when  it  comes  to  valentines  de  purtiest  one  I 
ever  seed  wus  de  one  Marse  Robert  raced  fur,  'way 
back  befo'  de  wah.  I  don't  nurver  spec'  ter  see  one 
look  lak  dat  ergin,".,said  the  old  man,  enthusiastically.) 
"De  day  de  race  cum  off  she  wus  de  purtiest  picture 
I  ever  seed — eyes  big  and  black  an'  soft  under  droopy 
lids  dat  sorter  shaded  'em  lak  de  fringe  uv  de  evenin' 


I 
V 


44  "UNCLE  WASH" 


skies  when  dey  close  in  de  twilight — dem  kinder  eyes 
dat  make  you  think  dey  don'  kno'  whuther  dey  wanter 
stay  awake  an'  kiss  you  or  go  to  sleep  an'  dream  about 
you.  [  Her  black  hair  wus  tucked  up  unner  a  plumed 
hat.  One  plume  fell  over  on  de  right  an'  hid  her  leetle 
pink  year,  creepin '  out  like  a  white  rabbit  at  nightfall 
from  under  a  huckleberry  bush.  De  yudder  plume 
fell  over  on  de  lef  an'  almost  hid  de  yudder  year 
peepin'  out  lak  oneuv  dese  heah  leetle  white  snow-birds 
wid  a  leetle  red  on  his  wings" — and  the  old  man 
chuckled  at  the  poetical  turn  he  had  given  to  his  descrip 
tion.  "And  den  she  had  so  much  hair,"  went  on  the 
old  man.  "It  fell  down  from  unner  dat  hat,  on  her 
shoulders,  in  great  big  twisted  coils,  twisted  'roun'an' 
'roun'  lak  a  double  hank  uv  fines'  yarn,  an'  big  es  de 
full-mussled  forearm  uv  a  Hal  filly.  Dat's  all,"  he 
added  proudly,  "  'cep'  a  pair  uv  leetle  dimples  dat  'ud 
make  a  cloudy  day  smile  out  in  sunshine,  an'  'er  leetle 
cooin'  laugh  dat  'ud  make  de  pigeons  come  home  to 
roost,  j 

"Dat  was  her,  Miss  Rose,  ole  Kunnel  Rivers' 
daughter,  dat  Marse  Robert  had  loved  ever  since  he  was 
big  'nuff  to  toss  her  on  his  pony  an'  ride  up  de  pike. 

"Now  ole  Kunnel  Rivers  was  a  big  gun.  He  wus 
Marse  Jeems  K.  Folk's  law  partner,  an'  de  biggest 
lawyer  he  wus  in  Tennessee.  He  nurver  went  in  for 
politics  much,  'cept  when  Marse  Jeems  'ud  run  for 
Gov'ner  or  sumpin'.  Den  he'd  quit  his  practice  long 
ernuff  to  fight  for  his  pardner,  an'  when  he  flung  hisself 
in  de  shafts  uv  de  political  ban'  wagon  sumpin'  'ud 
have  to  move  or  bust.  But  he  nurver  would  have  no 


A  RACE  FOR  A  VALENTINE  45 

offis  hisself,  an'  when  Marse  Jeems  wus  nomernated  fur 
de  President,  dey  say  hit  wus  his  speech  dat  turned  de 
tide  an '  nomernated  Marse  Jeems.  Course  when  Marse 
Jeems  was  'lected,  de  time  he  beat  Marse  Henry  Clay, 
he  tole  de  Kunnel  he  could  have  enything  he  wanted, 
an'  it  'ud  be  saunt  him  on  a  silver  waiter.  But  he 
didn't  want  no  offis  at  home.  He  want  to  rest,  he 
say,  an'  aigucate  Miss  Rose.  So  Marse  Jeems  he 
saunt  him  as  minister  uv  de  gospel,  to  carry  plenty- 
in-de-penitentiary  to  de  heathens  in  Europe.  'Twas 
some  years  befo'  he  cum  home,  an'  den  Miss  Rose 
look  lak  I  jes'  tole  you  'bout.  Marse  Robert  he'd 
graduated  at  West  P'int,  an'  cum  out  uv  de  Mexercan 
war  a  captain.  He  cum  home  on  er  furlow  dat  summer 
— de  summer  Miss  Rose  got  back  from  Europe.  He 
ain't  tell  me,  but  I  knowed  he  cum  for  Miss  Rose.  So 
de  nex'  night  arter  he  cum,  we  saddled  up  an'  rid 
over  to  de  Runnel's.  Marse  Robert  went  to  see  Miss 
Rose,  but  I  went  along  to  make  tings  lively  wid  de 
yaller  gals  in  de  kitchen. 

"When  we  got  dar,  Marse  Robert  jumped  offin  his 
hoss  an'  run  up  de  steps  fo'  jumps  at  a  time,  jes'  lak 
he  allus  done  ever  sense  he  wus  a  boy,  an'  den  I  seed 
'im  stop,  wid  dat  quick  milertary  way  he  had,  lak 
sumbody  said:  'Halt!'  Fur  dar  stood  Miss  Rose  at  de 
do*  stately  an'  cold  es  a  queen,  an'  de  thing  dat  halted 
Marse  Robert  was  a  furrin  bow,  an'  den  dis: 

"  'Good  mornin',  Cap'n  Young.  I'm  pleased  to  see 
you  ergin!' 

"Befo'  dat  she'd  allers  called  him  Robert,  an'  he 
called  her  Rose. 


46  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"Now  when  it  cum  to  pilin'  on  de  dignerty,  me  an* 
Marse  Robert  wus  as  good  as  all  Europe,  an'  we  cu'd 
put  it  on  twell  you'd  think  we  wus  de  backbone  uv  de 
North  Pole  hitse'f.  So  Marse  Robert  he  straightened 
hisse'f  up,  bowed  low  an'  sed: 

"  'Good  evenin',  Miss  Rivers;  allow  me  to  welcome 
you  home  ag'in.' 

"  I  soon  seed  whut  wus  de  matter,  for  in  dat  parlor, 
a  settin '  up  dar  so  nachul  you'd  a  thort  he  owned  de  hole 
thing,  wus  one  uv  dese  heah  furrin  jukes — enyway,  he 
wus  a  furriner  way  up  in  gee  in  his  country,  an'  had 
followed  Miss  Rose  home  and  wus  gwin  fer  to  marry 
her. 

"An'  hit  wus  de  same  way  in  de  kitchen.  Dar  sot 
a  leetle  bandylegged  mulatto  lookin'  feller,  wearin' 
knee-breeches,  an '  de  calf  uv  his  legs  lookin '  lak  a  corn- 
fed  steer  about  Christmas  time.  An*  when  I  went  in 
dar  he  wus  a-settin'  back  an'  a  chawin'  his  cud  an' 
a  talkin'  to  de  yaller  gals,  an'  all  uv  'em  wus  a-puttin' 
on  furrin  airs  an'  a-talkin  'furrin  talk  scan'lus.  i  Now 
I  nurver  has  been  much  on  furrin  langwidge.  My 
mammy  allers  sed  she  knowed  I  cud  larn  Greek  an* 
sech  kase  I  tuck  to  our  own  so  nachul.  But  I's  allers 
wondered  whut  fo'ks  wanter  larn  so  many  furrin  lang- 
widges  fur  wid  only  jes'  one  idee  to  spress  in  'em  all. 
It's  lak  a  man  buyin'  fo'  or  five  diffunt  kinder  fine 
kerridges  jes'  to  hitch  de  same  little  ole  mule  to.! 

"Course  I  thot  dat  little  feller  wus  a  nigger — whut 
fur  he  sociatin'  wid  niggers  ef  he  wa'n't?  an'  arter  I 
looked  at  'im  thort  I'd  joke  'im  a  leetle,  an'  I  sez: 
'Say,  nigger,  whar'd  you  cum  frum  enyway,  an'  whut 


A  RACE  FOR  A  VALENTINE  47 

kinder  bosses  is  you  got  in  your  country,  dat  sires 
yaller  colts  wid  flax  mane  an'  tails?' 

"Well,  sah,  dat  made  'im  so  mad  dat  he  jumped  up, 
cussed  'round  in  French,  bowed  to  de  gals,  an'  den 
whutcher  reckin  dat  flax-mane  nigger  wid  de  cornfed 
legs  do,  boss?  Why  he  challenge  me  to  fight  er  duel  wid 
'im  de  naixt  day  at  daylight !  Hit  made  me  so  mad ! 
Sez  I :  'Look  heah,  nigger,  ef  fightin'  is  whut  you  want, 
sez  I,  a-spittin'  on  my  hands  an'  getherin'  up  de  meat 
ax,  'jest  he'p  yo'se'f  to  de  butcher-knife  an'  wade  in!' 

"Well,  sah,  I  reckin  we'd  a  fit  den  an'  dar  if  Clara 
hadn't  cum  in.  Now  Clara  wus  Miss  Rose's  maid,  an' 
had  been  wid  her  to  dis  furrin  Ian.'  Befo'  she  left 
she'd  promised  to  marry  me  de  very  day  Miss  Rose 
married  Marse  Robert.  She  wus  de  purtiest  kind  uv  a 
yaller  gal,  with  curly  hair  and  black  eyes  an'  a  laugh  dat 
'ud  start  my  h'art  to  rabbit-huntin'  eny  day.  But 
heah  she  cum  in,  an'  'stid  uv  kissin'  me  lak  she  uster  do, 
she  'lowed  I  wus  a  low-bred  nigger,  not  fit  to  sociate 
wid  qualerty  fo'ks,  an'  den  whut  you  reckon?  Sho 
'nufT,  I  kno'  you  ain't  gwine  b'leeve  it,  boss,  but  she 
ups  an'  'lows  dat  Flax  Mane  wan't  no  nigger  at  all, 
but  had  a  family  tree,  dat  his  name  was  Mister  Valley, 
Mr.  Juke's  Valley,  an'  he  wus  a  furrin'  gen'man  an' 
white  es  Marse  Robert  wus.  An'  den  she  'stounded  me 
clean  out'n  my  boots.  She  'lowed  dat  she  an'  Mister 
Valley  wus  gwin'ter  marry  an'  go  to  Europe  on  a  bridle 
to'er,  along  wid  Miss  Rose  an'  de  Juke,  an'  dat  both 
couples  wus  now  ready  for  kongratulashuns  an'  bridle 
presents. 
"Well,  sah,  I  seed  in  a  minnit  how  de  Ian'  lay. 


48  "UNCLE  WASH" 

'Stid  of  a  bridle  to'er,  I  felt  like  takin'  a  paddle  to'er! 
De  sassy  thing!    Sez  I  to  de  man: 

"  'Well,  sah,  if  you  wus  as  good  as  a  nigger  I'd  ax 
yo'  pardin,  but  eny  white  man  dat'll  sociate  wid  a 
nigger  ain't  good  as  a  nigger.'  An'  den  I  sez  to  Clara: 
'An'  es  fer  you,  wid  yo'  sassy  airs,  befo'  me  an'  Marse 
Robert  git  thru'  wid  you  all,  yo'  Miss  Rose  will  be 
willin'  'to  marry  de  onliest  gen'man  in  dese  parts— 
Cap'n  Robert  Young — an'  as  for  you,  you'll  be  glad 
ernuff  to  marry  your  gran'mammy's  black  cat.  De 
wildgoose  fly  mighty  high,'  sez  I,  'but  I's  noticed  he 
allers  cum  down  on  de  groun'  at  last  to  roost.  De 
smalles'  'possum  allers  climbs  de  biggest  trees,'  sez 
I,  'an'  I's  allers  noticed  de  higher  de  family  tree  de 
smaller  am  de  little  'possum  up  in  de  top.' 

"Wid  dat  I  shuck  my  boot  an'  lit. 

"Well,  sah,  hit  wus  de  same  way  in  de  parlor,  an' 
Marse  Robert  didn't  git  no  more  konsolashun  dar  den 
I  did  in  de  kitchen.  We  rid  home  dat  night,  an'  nary 
one  uv  us  didn't  say  a  word;  but  I  cu'd  see  Marse 
Robert  bitin'  his  mustache  sorter  nervous  lak,  an' 
jinglin'  de  spur  on  his  boot,  but  he  didn't  say  nary 
word.  An'  to  save  my  life  I  c'udn't'  hep  thinkin'  uv 
how  pretty  Clara  look  in  dat  little  apron  wid  her  furrin' 
ways,  an'  it  mighty  nigh  broke  my  h'art  to  think  she 
gwine  marry  dat  scrub. 

"  But  Marse  Robert  wus  a  thurrerbred  an'  he  never 
sed  a  word,  not  even  de  next  week  when  dey  sent  out 
de  invites  to  Miss  Rose's  weddin'.  But  I  notis  de 
spirit  all  seem  to  go  out  uv  'im — he  didn't  take  no 
intrust  in  de  hosses — an'  'twus  a  bad  sign  when  Marse 


A  RACE  FOR  A  VALENTINE  49 

Robert  was  hurt  dat  way.  But  he  wus  game,  an'  de 
fust  thing  he  done  wus  to  give  a  swell  dinner  fur  all  de 
young  people  to  meet  Miss  Rose  an'  de  Juke.  Den  it 
wus  our  time  to  shine,  an'  bless  yo'  soul,  honey,  we 
sho'  did  cut  de  pigeon-wing.  De  Juke  had  fotch  over 
two  thurrerbred  English  hunters  to  take  exercise  on, 
whilst  he  wus  here,  an'  dey  wus  good  ones,  too.  He 
rid  over  to  de  party  on  one  hoss,  an'  Miss  Rose  on  de 
yuther,  an'  arter  de  dinner  when  he  and  Marse  Robert 
got  to  talkin'  hoss  dey  all  went  out  to  see  de  Juke's 
hosses.  Marse  Robert,  lak  de  gen'man  he  wus,  praised 
de  good  p'ints  uv  de  Juke's  hosses,  but  sed  nuffin'  'bout 
his  own.  Den  de  Juke  up  and  sed : 

'  Bofe  uv  dese  hosses,  Cap'n,  am  sons  of  Nestor, 
an'  dat  hoss  run  secon'  to  Priam  when  he  won  de 
Darby.' 

"  'Ah!'  sez  Marse  Robert,  'well-bred,  capital  fellers. 
I  kongratulate  you,  sah,  on  havin'  two  sech  good  ones/ 
"Den  de  Juke  he  wanted  to  see  Marse 
Robert's  hosses,  an'  Marse  Robert  tole  me  to 
lead  'em  out — ole  Black  Bess,  an'  Telula  an'  all  de 
mares  an'  de  colts. 

'  Wash,'  sez  he,  'bring  out  de  sire,'  an'  I  fotch  him 
out,  lookin'  lak  de  gran'  hoss  he  wus,  puttin'  on  all  his 
airs,  ca'se  Miss  Rose  an'  de  ladies  wus  lookin'  at  'im. 

'My!  how  proud  he  looks,'  sez  Miss  Rose.  'He 
steps  lak  a  king.' 

'Yesm',  Miss  Rose,'  sez  I,  a-liftin'  my  ole  hat, 
'beca'se  he  knows  a  queen's  lookin'  at  'im,  Miss.' 

"Miss  Rose  blush  an'  de  ladies  laugh  an'  de  Juke 
sez: 


50  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"  'Cap'n,  whut's  his  name?' 

"  'Dat's  Priam,  sah,'  sez  Marse  Robert. 

"  'De  devil  you  say!'  sez  de  Juke.  'Not  de  boss 
dat  won  de  Darby?' 

"  'De  same,  sah/  sez  Marse  Robert;  'my  father 
imported  him.' 

"At  dis  de  ladies  all  smile,  an'  de  Juke  turned  'round 
spiteful  lak  on  his  heels  an'  walk  off. 

"Arter  de  coffee  Marse  Robert  danced  de  Ferginny 
reel  wid  Miss  Rose  to  show  de  Juke  how  it  wus  done, 
an'  ever'  time  he'd  lead  Miss  Rose  down  de  Juke  'ud  get 
mad  an'  show  his  temper  in  leetle  things.  An'  once 
when  Marse  Robert  danced  wid  annudder  lady  an' 
Miss  Rose  an'  de  Juke  wus  talkin'  in  de  alcove,  I 
watch  Miss  Rose  an'  1  seed  she  wus  lookin'  at  Marse 
Robert  mor'n  she  wus  at  de  Juke.  I  laugh  an'  say 
to  myse'f :  'God  bless  you,  Miss  Rose,  you  sorter  gettin' 
over  dat  furrin'  feelin',  or  I  don't  kno'  nuflfm'  'bout 
signs  uv  love !' 

"  Den  de  Juke  he  got  too  full  uv  wine.  Our  gen'man 
never  tuck  but  one  glass  when  de  ladies  wus  'roun', 
but  de  Juke  he  jes'  tanked  up  scan'lus,  an'  de  mo'  he 
drunk  de  bigger  fool  he  wus.  He  seem'  to  be  mad 
'bout  sumpin',  an'  arter  dinner  he  sez  to  Marse  Robert, 
whar  Miss  Rose  wus,  dat  he'd  lak  ter  go  on  a  fox-hunt 
in  dis  country  to  sho'  de  grit  uv  his  hunters. 

"  Til  git  up  one  fur  you,  wid  pleasure,  sah,'  sez 
Marse  Robert. 

"  'Make  hit  an  all-day  run,  Cap'n,' sez  de  Juke. 
'  I  wanter  sho'  you  yo'  American  bosses  can't  stay  in  de 
race  wid  our  English  ones.' 


A  RACE  FOR  A  VALENTINE  51 

"Marse  Robert  flushed  an*  he  say:  'You  am  my 
guest,  so  I  cannot  reply  to  dat  taunt.  But  I  assure  you, 
it  am  very  hard  for  me  to  resist  the  challenge  you  fling 
down/ 

"De  Juke  he  laugh  an'  sez:  'Aw,  don't  stand  back 
on  etterket,  Cap'n.  Let  us  put  up  a  leetle  prize  fur 
de  winner — aw! — an'  race  fur  it — aw!  My  blood  am 
bilin'  fur  a  leetle  excitement — fawncy!' 

"  'Wid  pleasure,  den,  since  it  suits  you,  Juke/  sez 
Marse  Robert.  'Friday  week  am  Valentine  Day — 
shall  we  git  up  a  party  uv  young  folks  dat  day,  Miss 
Rivers?'  he  sez,  turnin'  to  Miss  Rose.  '  We'll  get  up  ole 
Slippery  Red,  de  ole  red  fox  dat  has  been  run  a  hundred 
times  an'  ain't  never  been  wursted  by  a  pack  yit. 
We'll  shet  'im  out  from  his  hole,  an'  make  a  life  an' 
death  fight  uv  it  wid  him  and  de  hounds/ 

"An'  den  he  tole  de  Juke  all  about  ole  Red,  an'  how 
no  hounds  had  ever  been  able  to  wurst  'im,  no  pack 
could  ever  ketch  'im. 

"  'Capital— aw— capital!'  sez  de  Juke.  'Dat'll  try 
our  hosses/ 

"An'  den  he  stop  quick,  look  at  Miss  Rose  wid  his 
leetle  sharp  eyes  an'  say:  'An'  de  man  dat  gets  de 
brush  gets  Miss  Rose  as  de  valentine — aw?' 

"At  dis  Miss  Rose  turn  scarlet,  Marse  Robert  flushed, 
too,  an'  frowned,  an'  his  eyes  flashed  so  I  thort  sho' 
he  gwin'ter  furgit  hiss'ef  an'  slap  de  Juke's  jaws,  as  he 
orter.  But  des  at  dat  time  Miss  Rose  look  up  full  into 
Marse  Robert's  eyes,  sorter  'pologizin'  an'  sorry  lak, 
an'  sorter  blushin',  too,  wid  anudder  funny  kind  o' 
look  dat  come  and  went  lak  a  flash.  But  I  knowed 


52  "UNCLE  WASH" 

what  it  wus.  It  wus  true  love's  decision  in  favor  uv  de 
true  lover,  an'  she  done  it  vvidout  knowin'  it.  But 
it  tuk  all  de  mad  outen  Marse  Robert's  face  an'  put  a 
merry  beam  in  his  eyes,  an'  he  bowed  to  Miss  Rose  an' 


sez: 

K      t 


An'  whut  say  de  fair  lady  in  de  case?' 

"Miss  Rose  laugh  and  say:  'Oh,  de  Juke  must  have 
his  way,  you  know;  isn't  he  our  guest?' 

"Den  I  never  see  Marse  Robert  so  happy  befo'. 
He  seem  ter  fairly  bubble  over  with  joy  an'  sperits. 
He  shine  lak  a  star,  an'  his  wit  wus  as  keen  es  a  frosty 
mornin'. 

"De  nex'  mornin'  he  cum  out  ter  me  an'  he  sez: 
'Wash,  fools  talk,  but  wise  men  act.  Fetch  out 
Priam!' 

"We  had  been  trainin'  Priam  sence  Christmas  to 
run  in  de  fo'  mile  race  fur  de  Cumberland  Cup.  Marse 
Robert  look  him  over  an'  sez:  'How  hard  is  he?' 

'Marse  Robert/  sez  I,  'he  is  hard  as  de  prongs  uv  a 
buck  uv  ten/ 

"  'How  much  does  you  weigh?'  sez  he. 

"  'One  hundred  and  seventy  pounds/  sez  I. 

"  'Good;  dat's  my  weight;  don't  train  him  fur 
speed  eny  mo'  but  for  distance;  gallop  him  ten  miles 
every  day  and  back  ergin;  to-morrow  I'll  tell  you  de 
res'/ 

"  I  caught  on  in  a  minnit  an'  I  sed:  'My  Gord,  Marse 
Robert  you  sho'  ain't  gwine  run  dis  hoss  in  a 
foxchase,  is  you?  Why,  he  cost  us  twenty  thousand 
dollars!' 

"Marse  Robert  looked  at  me  quick  an'  sez:  'If  he 


A  RACE  FOR  A  VALENTINE  53 

cost  a  million,  he  wud'nt  be  too  good  to  run  for  the 
prize  he  gwin'ter  run  fur!' 

"Well,  sah,  I  gallup  dat  hoss  ever'  day  'kordin'  to 
orders,  an'  when  de  day  uv  de  chase  come,  I  b'lieve  he 
cu'd  run  cross  de  State  uv  Tennessee,  from  Carter  to 
Shelby,  an'  never  draw  a  long  breath. 

"De  whole  country  turned  out  to  see  de  chase,  cause 
Old  Red  had  a  County  repertashun,  an'  dey  knowed 
it  was  gwin'ter  be  a  famous  race.  All  de  ladies  and 
gen' men  wus  dar,  but  none  of  'em  knowed 
what  wus  at  stake  'cept  Miss  Rose,  Marse  Robert 
an'  de  Juke. 

"Ole  Flax  Mane  wus  dar,  mounted  on  de  Juke's 
yuther  hoss,  whilst  I  rid  ole  Kit,  de  gray  mule.  I  rid 
up,  an*  sez  to  'im:  'You  seem  to  think  you's  mounted 
dis  morninV 

'I  kno'  I  am,'  sez  he.  'I'm  mounted  on  a  son  of 
Nestor.  What's  dat  you  ridin'?' 

Ts  ridin'  a  son-uv-a-gun,'  sez  I — 'ole  Kit — de 
gray  mule — not  much  on  pedigree,  to  be  sho',  but  hell 
on  short  cuts  an'  gittin'  dar!  An'  ef  you  got  enything 
to  put  up  'cept  your  pedigree  an'  your  knee  pants/ 
sez  I,  Til  bet  dis  mule  ergin  yo'  mount  I'll  be  at  de 
killin'  fust.' 

"  He  looked  at  me  scornful  lak  an'  rid  off. 

"Well,  sah,  hit  wus  a  chase.  De  air  was  cool  an' 
frosty  an'  de  groun'  jes'  wet  'nough  for  good  nosin'. 
You  could  almost  smell  de  breath  uv  Nachur,  an'  I 
b'lieve  I  cu'd  a  run  a  fox  myse'f  by  he  scent.  We  had 
two  packs,  cause  no  one  pack  had  ever  been  able  to  run 
Ole  Red  down,  an'  we  wanted  to  git  'im  dis  time.  We 


54  "UNCLE  WASH" 

knowed  his  tricks,  an'  saunt  one  pack  five  miles  away, 
up  in  de  Hampshire  hills,  to  be  hilt  and  turned  on  him 
fresh,  whar  he  allers  dodged  de  tired-out  dogs.  Den 
we  put  de  fus  pack  out  an'  soon  hit  de  trail.  /Ole  Red 
allers  let  a  pack  run  'im  'bout  fo'  miles  fo'  fun,  den  he'd 
ether  outfoot  'em  to  de  Hampshire  hills  and  Hickman 
County,  or  ef  he  didn't  feel  much  lak  runnin'  dat  day, 
he'd  laf  at  'em  an'  dodge  'em  back  to  his  hole  in  de 
bluff.  But  jdis  mornin'  we  had  put  a  nigger  at  de  hole, 
an'  arter  chasin'  him  'roun'  an'  roun'  for  fo'  hours,  an'  all 
widin  five  miles,  he  wus  seen  ter  come  over  de  hills 
an'  make  for  his  home  in  de  lime-rock  bluff.  But  de 
man  at  de  hole  had  stop  it  up  an'  skeered  him  off, 
an'  den  de  ole  feller  knowed  he  wus  in  fur  de  race  uv 
his  life,  an'  he  shot  away  to  de  hills  lak  a  streak  uv 
red  fire,  wid  de  hounds  in  full  bay.  j  Marse  Robert  and 
de  Juke  followed  de  hounds  nose  to  nose.  Dey  went 
over  fences,  an'  breasted  creeks  an'  cleared  ditches, 
a-ridin'  lak  two  demons;  but  de  rest  uv  us  tuck  short 
cuts  an'  rode  from  hill  to  hill  an'  watched  'em.  Priam 
wus  pullin'  on  Marse  Robert  lak  a  team  under  lash 
an'  wantin'  to  run  over  de  hounds,  an'  de  Juke  plyin' 
de  spur  an'  ridin'  lak  mad.  I  never  seed  sech  reckless 
ridin'  befo'  nor  sense.  I  cotch  up  wid  'em  dar  an' 
follered  'em  in  de  hills  an'  rid  wid  'em  fur  a  mile. 
Ole  Kit  had  got  her  second  wind,  an'  no  man  ever 
heard  uv  a  mule  makin'  a  misstep.  Den  de  onex- 
pected  happened.  Dey  had  run  five  miles  an'  de 
pack  was  still  fresh,  an'  it  looked  lak  dey  gwine  wind 
Ole  Red  up  dar.  Marse  Robert  and  de  Juke  was  both 
ridin'  fur  life  to  be  in  at  de  finish,  when  all  at  once  de 


A  RACE  FOR  A  VALENTINE  55 

Juke's  hunter  went  down  up  to  de  knee  in  a  ground 
hog  hole,  an'  his  rider  made  a  fine  turn  over  his  head. 
I  gin  a  whoop,  cause  I  knowed  dat  gin  de  race  to  Marse 
Robert.  Den  I  see  Marse  Robert  pull  up,  jump  down 
an'  he'p  him  up.  De  Juke  wus  all  right,  but  his  hunter 
was  dead  lame. 

"  'Blow  yo'  horn!'  sez  Marse  Robert. 

"  'What  fur?'  sez  de  Juke;  'it's  yo'  race  now/ 
'  Fur  yo'  other  hoss,'  sez  Marse  Robert. 

"De  Juke  flushed,  looked  at  Marse  Robert  quick  lak 
and  sed: 

"  ' By  God,  Cap'n,  you's  white!' 

"  'Oh,  the  chase  ain't  started  good,  yit!'  sed  Marse 
Robert;  'he'll  turn  soon  an'  race  us  clear  back  to  his 
hole  in  de  rock  an'  die  dar  if  we  ketch  'im  at  all.  So 
mount,  an'  here  goes!' 

"Ole  Flax  Mane  had  come  up  wid  de  yuther  hoss 
an'  dey  mounted  an'  whirled  away.  Well,  sah,  de 
funnies'  thing  happen  den.  Ole  Flax  Mane  didn't 
kno'  as  much  about  Hickman  County  bogs  as  he  did 
'bout  duelin',  an'  es  I  started  off  for  a  short  cut  -on  a 
lope,  I  hear  'im  hollerin'  fur  help.  When  I  got  dar  he 
had  walked  squar'  into  a  bog,  an'  ef  he  hadn't  got 
holt  uv  a  big  limb  dat  hung  over  it,  whar  he  was  hangin' 
lak  a  gray  'possum,  he'd  been  buried  right  dar,  ped 
igree  an'  all.  I  sot  on  de  bank,  an  Ole  Kit,  an'  laugh 
whilst  he  beg  me  to  he'p  him  out. 

"  'No,'  sez  I;  'but  I  think  I'll  cut  off  dat  limb,  'kase 
it  seem  to  be  hangin'  in  de  way  uv  de  hunters.' 

"Well,  sah,  uv  all  de  tears  an'  petishuns  he  put  up  in 
his  parley-voo  tongue!  It  made  ole  Kit  weep! 


56  "UNCLE  WASH" 

'What'll  you  gimme/  sez  I,  'ef  I  show  you  how 
to  git  out?' 

'Meester  Vashington;  oh,  Meester  Vashington!' 
he  sed;  'Oh,  efferyt'ing!' 

"  'Well/  sez  I,  'clime  up  on  dat  limb  an'  straddle  it. 
Now  gimme  dat  suit  uv  huntin'  clothes  you  got  on. 
I  lak  dem  brass  buttons,  an'  I  think  dem  knee-breeches 
will  jes'  about  fit  old  Kit.  Pull  'em  off/  sez  I,  'an' 
toss  'em  over,  an'  I'll  tell  you/ 

"He  clime  up  an'  shed  'em  quick;  dat  lef  'im  wid 
nuffin'  on  but  a  huntin'  shu't. 

'Now/  sez  I,  as  I  started  off,  'jes'  foller  de  limb 
twell  you  git  to  de  tree,  an'  den  foller  de  tree  twell 
you  git  to  de  ground,  an'  de  next  time  we  meet/ 
sez  I,  'I  hope  you'll  be  shorter  on  pedigree  an'  longer 
on  habiliments/  an'  I  rid  off  an'  lef  'im  crawlin  'along 
dat  lim'  whilst  de  cold  breeze  sung  a  song  thro'  his 
only  gyarment  to  help  him  along. 

"But  de  chase  on  de  back  track  fur  home  I'll  never 
furgit.  Only  Marse  Robert  an'  de  Juke  follered  de 
houns.  De  rest  of  us  jes'  tuck  short  cuts  from  hill  to 
hill  an'  watch  'em.  But  Ole  Red  tuck  off  over  hills 
an'  down  valleys,  cross  creeks  an'  woods,  an'  stubble, 
flinty  roads,  an'  holler  bottoms,  an'  allers  jes'  behin' 
de  pack  rid  Marse  Robert  holdin'  back  Priam  to  keep 
'im  from  runnin'  over  de  pack,  hoss  an'  rider  lak  one, 
bendin'  to  de  stride,  straitenin'  to  de  jump,  plungin' 
wid  de  leap. 

"An'  allers  de  Juke  was  dar,  but  diggin'  de  spurs 
to  his  mount  lak  a  red  madman.  An'  de  two  packs  wus 
givin'  a  glowin'  tongue  dat  echoed  from  de  hollows 


A  RACE  FOR  A  VALENTINE  57 

an*  made  de  blood  leap.  On  dey  went,  Ole  Red  in  a 
long  lope,  scuddin'  over  de  ye'rth  lak  de  shadder  uv  a 
red  March  cloud  'cross  de  sky.  Sho'  'nufT,  he  wus 
headin'  agin  for  his  den,  to  beat  de  hounds  dar,  an' 
we  cut  'cross,  all  de  ladies  and  gen'mens,  'cept  Marse 
Robert  an'  de  Juke,  to  see  'im  at  de  finish.  We  heurd 
'em  comin'  'long  'fore  dey  got  to  us.  Ole  Red  wus 
sore  an'  tired  an'  nearly  run  down.  Dey  cum  in  sight 
on  de  Dobbins  hills,  Ole  Red  headed  fur  de  home  he 
wus  never  agin  to  enter.  Down  Bigby  Creek  valley 
he  cum,  headed  straight  for  us,  de  houn's  boilin'  outen 
de  ground  behind  'im  an  de  two  riders  jes'  behind. 
Dey  struck  de  creek  an'  flew  up  de  bank — but  only  one 
rider  come  up — de  Juke — an'  he  flew  along  for  de 
finish. 

"  'My  Gord!  sez  I,  an'  I  looked  at  Miss  Rose  settin' 
on  her  hoss  in  de  group.  She  was  \\hite  as  de  lace 
'roun'  her  neck.  I  thort  she'd  faint.  Den  I  look  agin. 
Marse  Robert  had  cooly  stop  an'  let  Priam  plunge  his 
nose  in  de  creek  waters  for  three  swallows.  It  flash 
over  me  dat  de  didn't  want  to  be  in  at  de  finish.  Miss 
Rose  thought  it,  too,  an'  I  seen  her  reel  in  de  saddle  an' 
sorter  cry  out.  On,  on,  come  de  Juke.  On  flew  de 
pack.  On  loped  Old  Red.  Two  dogs  outfooted  de 
yuthers,  an'  now  run  side  'n  side  wid  de  fox,  dey  heads 
cocked  sideways  an'  eyein'  Ole  Red  for  a  ketch,  an' 
de  ole  fox  snappin'  an'  snarlin'  back  at  'em.  De 
nex'  minnit  de  hole  pack  would  er  bin  on  'im,  de  Juke 
right  in  de  bunch  an'  smilin'  wid  a  satisfied  smile. 

"Miss  Rose  sot  lak  a  statue  an'  as  white.  Ef  Marse 
Robert  wus  doin'  it  fur  revenge,  he  sho'  had  his  fill. 


58  "UNCLE  WASH" 

On,  on  dey  come — music,  howlin',  shouts.  De  Juke 
had  run  over  de  hindmost  houns  an'  wus  headed  for 
de  tired  out  ole  fox,  when  I  seed  Miss  Rose  flush  red 
den  she  lifted  her  han'  an*  waved  her  han' kerchief 
in  a  little  sorter  beck'nin'  way  to  Marse  Robert — an' 
he  cum ! 

"He'd  waited  for  dis  all  'long,  an'  now  for  de  fust 
time  he  gin  Priam  his  head,  an'  de  game  hoss  come  lak 
powder  afire,  an'  es  ef  he  was  winnin'  anudder  Darby. 
Marse  Robert  was  smilin'  lak  a  boy  playin'  a  winnin' 
trick.  He  rode  over  de  hounds  lak  dey  been  a  barn 
floor — shot  past  de  Juke  lak  a  whirlwind — an'  den  I 
see  'im  do  de  trick  he  learned  on  de  plains — fling  one 
leg  from  de  saddle,  swing  down,  holdin'  by  Priam's 
mane,  ride  squar'  over  Ole  Red,  pick  'im  up  by  de  nape 
uv  de  neck  as  he  passed,  den  strai'ten  up  in  de  saddle, 
an*  gallop  up  to  Miss  Rose,  holdin'  de  squirmin'  fox 
at  arm's  length,  whilst  her  own  color  come  back  redder 
dan  Ole  Red's  brush. 

"  'They  shan't  kill  'im/  laughed  Marse  Robert, 
'he's  too  game  to  die!' 

"Den  he  wheeled  Priam,  rid  up  to  Miss  Rose's  sad 
dle,  an'  said: 

"  'A  merry  race,  my  friends;  an'  ef  you'll  ride  over 
to  my  home  we'll  have  a  weddin'  an'  a  dinner — Rose 
an'  I  are  goin'  to  marry." 

"An'  dat's  whut  dey  done— dey  sho  did!" 


HOLDIN'   DE   SQUIRMIN'    Fox   AT    ARM'S   LENGTH. 


HOW    UNCLE    WASH  GOT   RID    OF   HIS 
MOTHERS-IN-LAW 

1WAS  telling  old  Wash  the  other  night  that  I 
thought  the  President  was  a  great  man  and  that 
if  he  didn't  make  any  break  from  now  on,  as  for  instance 
about  knocking  out  states'  rights  and  undue  blowing 
about  the  devilish  little  Japs  who  are  itching  to  scrap 
with  us,  he  would  rank  among  the  great  pres 
idents. 

The  old  man  was  thoughtful  for  awhile,  looking  into 
the  fire. 

"Wai,  sah,  he  sho'  is  got  all  de  year-marks — a 
senserble,  dermestic  wife  an'  no  signs  uv  a  muther- 
in-law.  Now,  sah,  befo'  eny  man  kin  be  great  he 
must  fus'  ax  his  wife  an'  arter  he  gits  her  consent  he 
mus'  ax  his  muther-in-law.  No  man  kin  be  great, 
don't  keer  how  much  'bility  he's  got,  ef  his  wife  is  in 
society  an'  his  muther-in-law  is  in  de  house.  You 
can  look  all  down  de  line,  sah,  an'  when  you  finds  dat 
combinashun  you'll  find  a  man  whose  growin'  gourd 
uv  greatness  is  liable  to  wilt  eny  day,  like  Jonah's,  at 
de  fus'  good  jolt  it  gits.  Wid  both  uv  'em  in  society 
an'  both  in  de  house,  why,  Lord,  boss,  his  gourd  will 
nurver  even  sprout! 

"  Did  I  uver  tell  you  'bout  my  'sperience  in  dat  line 
an'  how  nigh  I  cum  to  missin'  greatness,  all  on  account 
uv  a  few  muther-in-laws?  It  wus  a  close  shave  an'  if 
I  hadn't  seed  de  way  de  ship  wus  headed  an'  steered 

(59) 


60  "UNCLE  WASH" 

out  from  dat  combernashun,  instead  uv  bein'  dat  gen'- 
man  an'  floserpher  whose  'pinions  you  so  highly  values/ 
he  chuckled  modestly,  "you'd  a  had  a  ole  nigger  fit 
only  fur  de  woodpile  an'  de  blackin'  bresh." 

"Marse  John,"  he  laughed  as  he  bit  off  a  chew  of 
Brazil  Leaf  Twist,  bred  in  the  hills  of  Maury,  "did 
you  kno'  the  ole  man  am  a  Only?  The  only  man  dat 
ever  lived  dat  had  fo'  muther-in-laws  at  unct — driv' 
a  fo'in-han'  uv  'em,  so  to  speak!  Oh,  I  kno'  what 
you  'bout  to  say,  sah — but  mine  wus  legitermates, 
de  actu'l  product  uv  de  law  an'  matremony." 

"Nonsense,"  I  said,  "you  couldn't  have  been 
married  to  four  women  at  once,  as  sly  an  old  coon  as 
you  are.  Though  I  did  hear  Marse  Nick  Akin  say 
that  he  knew  of  his  own  knowledge  that  you  once  had 
three  wives  but  gave  two  of  them  to  the  preacher 
if  he  would  make  you  an  elder  in  his  church,  which 
bargain  was  duly  consummated.  Oh,  I  knew  you  were 
driving  a  very  long  string  of  tandems,  old  man,  but 
four  abreast?  Tell  about  it." 

He  laughed  so  loud  the  pointer  jumped  up  from  his 
bed  on  the  rug  before  the  fire  and  barked. 

"Did  Marse  Nick  vi'late  de  conferdence  I  composed 
in  his  veracity?"  he  laughed  again.  "Wai,  I  jis'  well 
tell  it  fur  you'll  nurver  guess  how  it  wus. 

"Long  in  de  fifties  I  spliced  up  wid  a  likely  young 
widder  dat  wus  de  sod-relic  uv  Br'er  Simon  Harris, 
a  'Piscopal  brudder  up  at  Nashville.  Befo'  dat  she 
had  been  de  relic  of  several  gen'men  uv  color.  Fur 
a  week  or  so  I  wus  so  busy  co'tin  her  dat  I  wa'n't 
very  'tickler  jis'  whut  her  entitlements  an'  habilerments 


UNCLE   WASH'S  MOTHERS-IN-LAW       61 

wus,  nur  jis'  whut  mineral  rights  an'  easements  went 
wid  de  property. 

'Ts  allers  noticed  it's  dat  a  way  in  de  co'tin' 
stage  an'  hits  a  wise  dispensashun  uv  ole  Marster  to 
trap  us  all  into  matremony  an'  make  us  blin',  lak 
snakes  in  August ;  an'  ever'  one  uv  us,  when  he  gits 
his  seckin'  sight  arter  de  entrapment,  wakes  up  to  fin' 
dat  in  de  deed  to  de  state  uv  matremony  dar  has  been 
passed  wid  de  free-hold  a  few  hererditerments  dat  he 
didn't  cal'culate  went  wid  de  Ian'. 

"Sum  uv  us,  uv  co'rse  nurver  gits  dey  seckin'  sight 
at  all.  But  he's  bohn  dat  way! 

"But  I  ain't  talkin'  uv  dem.  I's  nurver  writ  a 
fool's  almernac  yit! 

"But  I  claims  I  am  de  only  man  dat  ever  got  fo' 
muther-in-laws,  when  I  didn't  'spec'  to  git  eny! 

"Arter  a  breef  but  very  pinted  co'tship,  in  which 
I  done  de  usual  close  settin',  low  layin'  an'  tall  lyin', 
I  hitched  up  my  team  an'  driv'  up  to  Nashville  an' 
married  Sally.  Arter  de  circus  I  driv'  de  team  'round 
to  de  door  fur  to  carry  her  home  an'  I  went  in  fur  to 
pack  up  her  things.  I  got  'em  all  in  one  big  box,  fur 
Br'er  Simon  hadn't  been  very  felicertus  in  passin' 
round  de  hat,  an'  when  I  tuck  it  out  to  de  wag'n  dar 
sot  Sally  an'  fo'  uther  ladies  all  es  cheerful  an'  happy 
as  fo'  ole  tabby-cats  in  a  hay  loft. 

"  'Dese  am  my  muthers,  Wash,'  sez  Sally  sweetly, 
'an'  uv  co'se  dey  's  all  gwine  to  live  wid  us/ 

"  'Look  heah,  gal,'  sez  I  sorter  faintly,  'I  ain't 
nurver  heerd  uv  enbody  havin'  mor'n  one  muther. 

"  'Dese  other   three   am    jes'   es    dear,'   sez    she, 


62  "UNCLE  WASH" 

p'intin'  to  de  three  ole  ladies,  'dat's  Simon's  muther, 
dat's  mine,  an'  dem  over  dar — ' 

"Marse  John,  I  nearly  had  a  fit!  Do  you  kno'  dat 
gal  had  de  muthers  uv  ever'  one  uv  her  fus'  husbands 
dar  an'  claimin'  dey  wus  mighty  nigh  to  her  ? 

"Dar  wa'n't  nothin'  to  do  but  to  git  a  divorcement 
an'  es  I  wa'n't  quite  ready  fur  dat  yit,  I  made  de  bes' 
uv  it  an'  driv'  off;  but  I  knowed  if  dar  wus  ever  a  day 
when  I  needed  sum  brains  now  wus  de  time.  An' 
de  three  sod  muthers, — dat  wus  de  entitlement  I  give 
to  de  three  muthers  uv  Sally's  dead  husbands, — dey 
wus  jes'  plain  ole  grannies,  wid  de  usual  tongue  an' 
de  perviserty  fer  huntin'  up  trouble  dat  wu  natu'lly 
predistined  fur  sumbody  else. 

"But  Sally's  muther  she  wus  a  fine  lookin'  'oman, 
jes  a  shade  heftier  an'  handsumer  than  Sally  so  I 
teched  her  mighty  tenderly  an'  gin  her  to  onderstan' 
dat  I  fully  intended  to  fulfill  to  de  letter  de  scrip'tul 
injunshuns  nv  filial  affecshuns.  She  wus  a  hefty 
'oman,  sah,  but  she  wus  es  bossy  es  she  wus  hansum, 
es  I  found  out.  De  day  she  landed  at  home,  sah,  I 
seed  she'd  sot  in  to  own  de  place  an'  in  two  weeks, 
sah,  sides  ownin'  Sally  an'  de  sod-muthers,  she  owned 
de  mules,  de  cow,  de  pigs  an'  de  farm,  me  an'  my 
'ligious  convicshuns  an'  perlitical  preferment. 

"  But  es  I  wus  sayin',  she  wus  a  han'sum  'oman ! 

"Now  I's  allers  willin'  to  be  bossed  fur  a  while  by 
a  handsum  'oman,  but  when  it  comes  to  dat  batch  of 
ole  sod  muthers  dat  looked  lak  busted  bags  uv  dried 
apples,  dat  wus  a  nurr  thing,  But  I's  noticed  dar  is 
allers  a  kin'  of  communercashun  'mong  women  folks 


UNCLE  WASH'S  MOTHERS-IN  LAW       63 

es  to  de  bossin'  uv  er  man.  It  jis'  travels  by  grapevine, 
or  dis  here  wireless  business  in  de  air,  to  de  end  dat 
when  one  'oman  kin  boss  er  man  all  uv  'em  think  dey 
can  do  it. 

"An'  dey  think  right,  only  in  dis  case  de  thinkin' 
hadn't  all  ben  dun  yit.  So  dey  all  jes'  put  me  down 
as  dead  easy. 

"  I  let  'em  have  free  han'  till  de  honeymoon  wus  over. 
I  didn't  think  I  orter  mix  eny  vinegar  wid  dat;  but 
by  dat  time  de  whole  tribe  uv  'em  wus  needin'  sum  uv  de 
salt  dat  Lot's  wife  got,  an'  mebbe  sum  uv  de  fire  an' 
brimstone  dat  wus  de  'casion  uv  her  saltin'.  Wai,  sah, 
dey  sot  in  fur  infairs  an'  didn't  do  nuthin'  but  eat  fur 
two  weeks.  I  had  to  give  'em  three  infairs  myself  an' 
then  they  gin  to  nose  aroun'  an'  git  my  naburs  to  have 
infairs.  Fur  two  weeks  mo'  dar  wa'n't  nuffin  but 
infairs  fur  de  bride,  an'  groom,  fur  my  naburs  wus 
polite,  till  dey  wusn't  a  chicken  or  shote  left  in  five 
miles  uv  my  home,  an'  if  dar  had  been  a  hard  winter 
an'  de  white  folks'  chickens  had  roosted  high,  we  would 
er  had  a  hard  time  uv  it. 

"Wai,  I  stood  dat,  'caze  dar  wus  a  honeymoon  an' 
good  eatin'  gwine  on  wid  it,  but  'long  'bout  de  thud 
week  when  de  sod-mammies  gin  to  tell  me  how  I  orter 
roach  my  hair  an'  run  my  farm  I  gin  to  lay  my  plans  fur 
axshun. 

"Dey  wus  all  'Piscopaliuns,  es  I  wus  sayin',  an' 
dey  bleeved  turrible  in  Good  Friday;  an'  ever'  Friday 
wus  Good  Friday  wid  dem  when  it  come  to  eatin.' 
When  I  seed  my  chickens  all  gwine  an'  de  pigs  an'  sich, 
I  got  so  disgusted  wid  dese  Good  Fridays  dat  I  wanted 


64  "UNCLE  WASH" 

to  be  a  jay-bird  fur  a  while  so  I  cu'd  git  off  to  hell  ever' 
Friday  myse'f!  Frum  dat  dey  begin  to  rub  it  in  to 
me  'bout  baptism  an'  so  forth  an'  dat  didn't  tend  to 
make  me  change  in  de  resolushuns  I  had  fixed  up. 
I  went  on  fixin'  my  plans  an'  layin'  low,  meek  as 
Moses  outwardly  but  inwardly  full  uv  wrath. 

"  By  dis  time  dey  gin  to  ax  in  all  de  bredderin  uv  de 
chu'ch  to  he'p  'em  eat  an'  settin'  up  by  moonlight  wid 
'em  a  holdin'  han's  an'  prayin'.  Now,  sah,  de  hefty 
one  nurver  mixed  up  in  dese  small  things — she  wus 
layin'  fur  bigger  game.  She  seed  de  sod-muthers  wur 
managin'  it  all  right  an'  as  she  knowed  she  owned  dem 
an'  Sally  an'  dey  all  owned  me,  why  she  let  it  res'  at  dat. 

"Sides  dat,  as  I  sed,  she  wus  a  han'sum  'oman! 

"I  let  it  run  on  till  de  time  whut  dey  call  Ash 
We'nesday  come,  when  dey  all  had  a  feast  an'  special 
prayers  fur  de  souls  uv  all  who  had  died  frum  de 
beginnin'  uv  de  worl'  till  den, — or  sumpin'  nurr  like  it. 
I  had  already  spent  all  my  money  an'  dey  had  ordered 
lumber  fur  a  new  house,  'sides  orgernizin'  a  society 
to  build  de  nigger  preacher  in  town  a  rookery.  Dey 
called  it  a  pay  supper — an'  I  done  all  de  payin'!  It 
wus  all  to  cum  off  de  night  uv  Ash  We'nesday. 

"Now  dat  Ash  bizness  sot  me  to  thinkin'.  Here 
wus  my  home  turned  into  a  karnival  uv  noise  an' 
carousin'  an'  drinkin'  an'  hoodoo'in',  an'  me  payin'  fur 
it. 

"  'Wai,'  sez  I  to  myse'f,  'I'll  jes'  turn  dis  thing  into  a 
Ash  We'nesday  sho'  nuff,  so  I  goes  out  an'  cuts  down  a 
ash  tree  an'  makes  me  a  good,  lithe  stick  dat  would 
knock  a  bull  down,  an'  den  bounce  back  into  yo'  han's. 


UNCLE  WASH'S    MOTHERS-IN-LAW       65 

Dat  wus  fur  de  bredderin.  Den  I  broke  up  a  good 
ash-bar'l  an'  made  de  paddles  handy  fur  de  sisterin, 
an'  I  sot  'em  in  de  corner  behin'  de  cup'ard. 

"De  night  cum,  but  dat  time  dey  didn't  keer  nufT 
fur  me  to  ax  me  into  de  feast.  I  wus  jes'  er  common  ole 
Baptis'  nigger.  I  waited  till  dey  wus  all  dar,  de  sod- 
muthers  in  white  apruns,  candles  burnin'  an'  dude 
niggers  an'  niggeresses  frum  town  and  ever'  whar,  all 
s'posin'  to  be  payin'  fur  a  thing  dat  finally  cum  outen 
my  pocket.  I  walked  in  an'  sot  down  by  de  fire,  but 
befo'  I  got  sot  good,  one  of  dem  dude  niggers  put  er 
insultment  on  me. 

"Dat  suit  me  all  right.  I  didn't  want  to  start  de 
fight  in  my  own  house — dat  wa'n't  good  manners — 
but  soon  es  dat  nigger  put  de  insultment  on  me,  I  wus 
reddy. 

"  'Frien's,'  sez  I,  'I  am  a  plain  ole  Baptis'  nigger, 
but  es  I  onderstan'  it,  dis  am  Ash  We'nesday.' 

"  '  You  bet  it  am,  ole  Moses,'  sez  one  uv  de  dudes, 
'an'  it  ain't  a  good  place  fur  Baptis'  to  eat — dey  am  lia- 
bul  to  have  de  collect!' 

"  I  didn't  see  de  p'int,  but  dey  did,  an'  all  laf  d. 

"  'Yes,'  sez  I,  'he  mou't,  but  he  is  mor'n  apt  to 
have  stumic  enuif  left  to  read  de  burial  sarvices  over 
a  few  dudes,'  an'  I  lit  in.  I'd  locked  de  do'  but  fer- 
got  de  winder;  but  I  heurn  tell  arterwards  dat  only 
two  niggers  got  out  uv  dar  wid  a  soun'  head,  an'  dey 
didn't  stop  runnin'  till  Easter  mo'nin'l 

"  I  lit  on  de  sod-muthers  early  in  de  game  wid  de 
staves  uv  de  ash  bar'l  till  dey  wus  meet  fur  repentunce, 
an'  de  nex'  mo'nin'  I  sent  'em  back  to  town  whar  I 


66  "UNCLE  WASH" 

foun'  dey  all  had  husban's  livin'  dat  dey  had  quit  fur  er 
easier  job.     Wai,  dey  had  to  take  'em  back. 

"Now,  sah,  I  wus  keerful  not  to  hurt  Sally  an'  her 
mammy — dey  wus  both  han'sum  women,  es  I  wus 
sayin'. 

"  I  wus  now  rid  uv  de  sod-muthers,  but  how  to  git 
riduv  Sally's  mammy  wus  de  nex  p'int.  I'd  figured 
dat  out  too,  case  es  I  said,  she  wus  a  han'sum  'oman. 
De  tacticks  I  used,  boss,  is  whut'll  s'prize  you. 

"Bout  de  thud  night  when  I  had  her  alone  for  a 
while  on  de  leetle  porch  an'  we  wus  waitin'  fur  Sally 
to  git  supper,  fur  she  had  gone  to  wuck  in  earnest  arter 
she  seed  how  handy  I  wus  wid  de  ash  bar'l,  sez  I: 

'A  good  meny  men  have  muther-in-laws  dat  am 
homely.  I's  mighty  proud  uv  mine,'  sez  I,  'she  is  so 
han'sum.' 

"  'Why,  Washin'tun!'  she  sez,  'does  you  really 
think  so?' 

"  I  seed  it  tickled  her,  an*  arter  a  while  I  slipped  over 
closer  an'  sed: 

"  'An'  I  nurver  seed  a  muther-in-law  wid  sech 
b'utiful  eyes  as  you  is  got',  an'  I  took  her  han'. 

"Dat  wus  mor'n  she  cu'd  stan'  oner  col'  collar  an' 
you  orter  seed  her  light  out — light  out  an'  he'p  git 
supper,  too! 

"I  let  it  res'  at  dat.  I's  noticed  dat  too  many 
fo'ks  plants  dey  truck  too  fas'  in  de  spring.  An'  at 
de  same  time  I's  nurver  let  er  late  frost  keep  me  frum 
believin'  it'll  be  summer  by  an'  by. 

"De  nex'  night  I  sot  out  on  de  po'ch  ag'in  arter  er 
hard  day's  wuck  an'  I  tuck  my  stan'  whar  I  wus  de 


UNCLE  WASH'S  MOTHERS-IN-LAW       67 

night  befo'  fur  I  knowed  de  ole  doe  allers  crosses  de 
creek  at  de  same  place.  Sho  'nuff,  by  an'  by  heah  she 
cum  tip-perty-tip — tipperty-tip. 

"An'  all  she  wanted  wus  to  ax  me  if  I  thought  de 
weather  wus  gwine  ter  change!  I  sot  up  close  ag'in  an' 
sed: 

1  'Sum  times  er  man  makes  a  great  mistake  by 
marryin'  in  too  big  a  hurry/ 

'How's  dat?'  she  sed,  tickled  to  death  an'  nestlin' 
up  to  me. 

"Why/  sez  I,  'he  marries  de  gal  an'  den  he  fin's  out 
whut  'ud  suit  him  bes'  wus  de  muther — shoots  at  de 
doe  an'  kills  de  fawn/  sez  I,  slippin' my  arm  aroun' 
her  wais'. 

"Up  she  jumps  ag'in  an'  goes  up  mad  lak  an'  big  es 
a  balloon. 

"  'Ain't  you  'shamed  uv  yo'se'f?'  sez  she.  Ts 
gwine  right  in  an'  tell  Sally/ 

"  I  knowed  she  wouldn't  an'  I  set  back  an'  chuckled. 
It  wus  all  wuckin'  to  suit  me  an'  I  seed  dar  would  soon 
be  er  complete  separashun  uv  de  chu'ch  an'  de 
state. 

"Now,  sah,  you'll  wonder  des  why  I'd  play  es  hefty 
an'  han'sum  a  'oman  es  she  is  sich  er  trick,  but  I  'cided 
dat  one  wife  in  de  house  am  enuff  in  dat  place. 

"De  thud  night  I  had  it  fixed.  I  knowed  she'd 
gone  off  mad,  but  I  knowed  a  'oman,  arter  one  huggin', 
is  like  a  dog  burryin'  a  bone — he'll  leave  it  fur  awhile, 
but  he's  sho  to  cum  back  to  it  ag'in !  I  jes'  waited  an' 
let  her  cum  back,  fixin'  my  plans.  I  tole  Sally  to  set 
down  in  one  corner  uv  de  po'ch  in  de  dark  an*  keep 


68  "UNCLE  WASH" 

quiet — dat  I  had  er  s'prize  fer  her  to  sho'  how  her  vir 
tuous  husban'  wus  bein'  inticed  by  de  Philistine. 

"Dat  wus  enuff — she  sot. 

"I  waited  till  dark  fore  I  cum  an*  den  I  stomped 
aroun',  washed  my  face  an'  han's,  an*  lit  my  pipe. 
An*  heah  she  cum  tipperty-tip  an'  all  she  wanted  to 
kno'  wus,  if  de  moon  had  ri{! 

"  I  let  her  do  de  talkin',  fur  she  wus  ripe  fur  it,  an* 
'bout  de  time  she  tole  me  dat  she  lubbed  me  frum  de 
fus'  an'  dat  I  orter  married  her  stead  uv  Sally,  I  heerd 
a  scufflin'  in  de  co'ner, — Sally  riz  up,  dar  wus  much 
excitement  an'  scatterment  uv  hair  an'  when  it  wus 
over  dar  wus  nobody  on  dat  place  but  me  an'  Sally, 
an'  I  owned  her" 


HOW  UNCLE  WASH  PLAYED 

SANTA  CLAUS 

"N  TO,  NO,  Marse  John,"  said  the  old  man  ,as  he 
1  N  staggered  in  the  other  night,  "don't  git  excited, 
it  ain't  de  ku  klux  done  it.  I  ain't  seed  eny  uv  dem 
sense  I  tried  ter  be  smart  an'  own  a  few  po'  white 
fo'ks  arter  de  war.  No,  sah,  it  ain't  kuklux,"  and  he 
tried  to  sit  down,  but  gave  it  up  and  held  on  to  the 
arm  of  a  chair. 

I  was  distressed  for  I  had  never  seen  the  old  man 
look  like  that.  His  head  was  bandaged  in  cotton 
batting  and  the  eye  he  had  left  was  trying  to  look  at 
me  through  a  slit  in  an  arnica  poultice. 

"Sit  down,"  I  cried,  reaching  for  a  bottle  of  horse- 
medicine  I  kept  for  him  in  the  sideboard. 

"  I  can't,  Marse  John,  I  ain't  got  er  spot  lef  to  res' 
on.  I's  branded  onbofehips  wid  de  bar  uv  de  cannon- 
cracker.  If  I  tries  to  recumber  longer-turdernal  I 
lays  on  de  bran'  o'  de  sky-rocket,  an'  if  I  goes  in  fur 
horizontal  recumbrance  I  gits  on  de  spot  lef  by  tor 
pedoes.  Dar  ain't  but  one  spot  lef  for  me  to  res'  on. 
If  dars  a  iron  hook  in  de  wall  jes'  hang  me  up  on  it  by 
de  coat  collar.  I's  be'n  playin'  Sandy  Claws,"  he 
groaned — "tryin*  to  do  lak  white  fo'ks  an'  lak  de 
mos'  uv  dem  kerried  my  religun  too  fur." 

I  did  what  I  could  to  help  him. 

"Ah,  Marse  John,  didn't  you  put  a  lettle  too  much 
turkentine  in  dat  whiskey?  Lord,  but  I's  a  wrick  uv 
myse'f. 

(69) 


70  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"Ef  I  had  it  my  way/'  he  went  on,  as  he  adjusted 
himself  to  a  soft  spot  on  the  sofa,  "dar  jes'  nurver 
would  be  ernuther  Kris'mus.  Us  niggers  copies  ever' 
thing  frum  de  white  fo'ks,  even  borrowin'  dey  religgun. 
But  I's  blest  ef  it  fits  us  eny  mor'n  it  fits  some  uv 
dem,  an'  dis  Kris'mus  is  jes'  er  nuesence  an'  er  non 
sense.  Why,  Sah,  de  gloomes'  time  uv  dey  year  is  jes' 
arter  Kris'mus.  When  de  foolishness  and  de  fiahwucks 
is  all  over  dar  ain't  nuffm  lef  but  tucky  feathers, 
taxes  and  a  tired  stumic!  You  owe  ever'body  from  de 
grocer's  lergitermates  to  de  ole-skin  nabur  dat  saunt 
you  a  cyard  headed,  "De  Foot-paths  uv  Peace,"  an' 
spen's  de  res'  uv  de  year  scrappin'  wid  you,  kase  you 
furgot  to  sen'  him  er  fat  pullit  in  return.  Yo'  taxes  is 
due,  yo'  wood  is  out,  yo'  stumic  is  de  only  thing  you 
knows  you  own,  kase  you  kin  feel  dat's  in  revolt,  an' 
you  spen's  de  res'  uv  de  year  takin'  to  callermul  an' 
tall  timber. 

"When  you  look  'roun',  sah,  it's  jes'  awful — twixt 
dried  holly  hung  around,  orange  peelin',  dirt,  chicken 
feathers  an'  fish  bone,  de  home  looks  lak  er  wolf-den  at 
weanin'  time,  de  chillun  ruint  fur  wuck  an'  school,  an' 
dey  cough  and  cut  up  lak  distempered  colts.  Yo' 
wife's  made  pincushens  an'  Kris'mus  gif  s  till  she  broke 
you,  and  her  constertushun  an '  gone  to  bed,  dey  cows 
got  garget  when  dey  oughter  have  milk,  an '  de  cat  you 
be'n  tryin'  to  git  rid  of  all  de  year  bobs  up  wid  er 
basketful  uv  kittins. 

"Ain't  it  strange,  sah,  dat  we  celerbrates  de  buff-day 
uv  sech  er  man  in  sech  er  way?  He  cum  to  tell  us  to 
be  meek,  an'  we  starts  in  fur  mischief;  he  tells  us  to  git 


UNCLE  WASH  PLAYED  SANTA  GLAUS  71 

'ligun,  an'  we  all  git  drunk;  he  tells  us  to  give,  an' 
we  do  it  wid  de  hopeuv  gittin'  mo'  in  return;  he  say 
be  temprit,  an'  we  start  in  to  stuff.  His  whole  life 
wus  to  entice  us  to  heaven,  an'  we  gits  so  happy  at  de 
very  thought  dat  we  'megiately  starts  off  to  hell  wid 
er  pocket  full  uv  fiahwucks  fur  fear  de  Devil  didn't 
have  enuff  uv  his  own  down  dar!" 

"Hold  on,  old  man,"  I  cried,  "you  have  expressed 
just  what  I  have  been  wanting  to  say  all  my  life,  but 
didn't  have  your  flow  of  language!  Excuse  me  while 
I  go  to  my  iron  safe  and  get  a  bottle  of  Frank  Chaffin's 
twenty-year-old — that  horse  medicine  is  not  good 
enough  for  such  sentiments.  I've  got  the  other  in  my 
safe  and  I  am  the  only  man  who  knows  the  com 
bination." 

"Ah,  dat's  better,  Marse  John,"  he  said,  a  moment 
afterwards — "  I's  jes'  be'n  scorin'  now — jes'  watch  me 
pace. 

"An'  swappin'  dese  Kris'mus  gifs,  Lord,  it  do  make 
me  tired !  It's  lak  de  time  ole  Marster  tole  ole  Miss  he 
sold  his  fine  hound  fur  er  thousand  dollars,  an'  ole  Miss 
wus  so  glad,  kase  she  hated  dat  hound,  he  sucked  de 
eggs.  But  she  wus  hot  when  she  found  out  ole  Marster 
had  jes  swapped  him  fur  two  five  hundred  dollar  pups. 

"Dat's  Kris'mus  givin  'all  over. 

"  Kris'mus  gifs  now  is  jes'  Kris'mus  gittin',  an'  ever* 
man  is  jes  tryin'  to  git  his  piece  on  earth  an'  de  good 
will  uv  de  other  man  long  enuff  to  skin  him  endurin' 
de  year. 

"Now,  dar's  Dinah.  She  starts  in  right  after  Jinuary 
an'  spen's  de  res'  uv  de  year  gittin  ready  fur  Kris'mus, 


72  "UNCLE  WASH" 

an'  no  heathen  in  Aferca  spen's  a  year  uv  harder  wuck, 
whittlin'  his  god  out  uv  a  gum-stump  wid  er  clam  shell, 
den  my  'ligus  ole  'oman  does  fixin'  fur  Kris'mus. 
'Save  it  fur  Kris'mus,  Wash/  is  whut  she  chirps  on 
frum  Jinuary  to  Jinuary.  She's  tuck  down  de  good 
ole  sign  I  useter  hav  up  in  de  house,  'Save  a  nickel  and 
own  a  dime,'  an'  now  all  she's  got  up  is,  'Save  it  all  fur 
Kris'mus  I'  She  drilled  dis  so  in  our  chillun  dat  it 
lakter  led  to  a  'vorcement  wid  our  oldes'  gal,  Sally. 
Sally  she  married  er  nice  nigger,  but  I  soon  seed  sumpin' 
wus  wrong.  De  nigger  got  mad  an'  started  for  a 
'vorcement,  an'  when  I  gits  to  de  bottom  uv  it,  he  said 
Sally  nurver  had  kissed  him  yit.  I  gin  dat  gal  a  strap- 
pin'  an'  she  'fessed  up  and  sed  she  luved  de  nigger, 
but  she  luved  'im  so  hard  she  wus  savin'  de  fust  kiss 
fur  Kris'mus! 

"  I  tell  you,  sah,  it's  jes  got  redikerlus  de  way  we  go 
on.  Now  heah's  de  way  it  wucks  wid  me: 

"We  spen's  de  summer  an'  fall  raisin'  er  flock  uv 
tuckies  es  Kris'mus  gif  s  fur  our  frien's.  Fur  dese  we 
gits  backer  armful  uv  Foot-paths  uv  Peace'  cyards,  er 
few  po'  pullits  an'  er  lot  uv  candy  made  in  Black  Bottom 
an'  painted  by  dat  Irish  Dago  you  calls  Mike  Angelo. 
Fur  de  fall  lambs  er  two  we  sen's  out  mos'ly  to  de 
preachers,  we  gits  back  sumpin '  dat  looks  lak  wool,  but 
it  ain't,  on  de  painted  toys  de  chillun  can't  eat;  an' 
fur  de  good  gyarments  Dinah  makes  an'  distributes 
'mong  her  frien's,  she  gits  back  cobweb  collars  dat 
you  can't  wear  an'  hankerchefs  dat  you  wouldn't 
no  mo'  think  uv  blowin'  your  nose  in  then  you  would 
in  a  sifter. 


UNCLE  WASH  PLAYED  SANTA  GLAUS  73 

"An'  some  fool  'oman  had  spent  a  half  a  year 
a-makin'  'em. 

"O,  we  gits  cyards  er  plenty.  But  I's  noticed  dat 
de  ones  dat  sen's  me  de  Toot-paths  uv  Peace'  is  allers 
in  er  scrap  er  fuss  wid  us,  an'  de  very  nigger  dat  led  de 
prayer-meetin '  an'  sent  us  dat  framed  card,  'Our 
Faith  is  Our  Fishiency,'  'loped  wid  our  darter  an* 
tuck  all  de  blooded  chickens  wid  him  dat  night.  Eny 
way,  he  didn't  leave  us  a  fishiency — no,  not  even  a  min- 
nery. 

"But  I  got  enuff  now  sense  I  played  Sandy  Claws 
last  week." 

"You  played  Santa  Claus  after  all  you  have  said?" 
I  asked. 

"Yes,  sah,  I  played  Sandy  Claws,  an'  God  knows  I 
find  his  claws  an'  his  paws,  an'  heah  I  pause,"  he 
winked,  looking  toward  the  sideboard. 

"Now,  "  he  said,  after  he  tapped  the  bottle,  "I 
didn't  wanter  play  dat  Sandy  Claws,  but  de  church 
saunt  er  committee  uv  one — a  mighty  hansum  an'  hefty 
'oman  to  see  me — Sis  Tilly — an'  she  begged  me  to  do  it 
jes'  fur  her  sake.  Now,  es  I  sed  she  wus  hansum  an* 
Dinah  wus  bizy  makin'  Kris' mus  gif's  outen  cotton 
battin/dog  hair  an'  exselor, dat  !  knowed she  wudn't 
kno'  er  side-steppin'  waltz  from  er  breakdown,  so  I 
'cided  to  he'p  Sis  Tilly  out.  Dis  led  to  a  lot  uv  prac- 
ticin'  twixt  me  an'  Sis  Tilly  at  de  church,  an'  by  de 
time  dat  Kris'mus  night  cum  I  wus  fitten  an'  good. 
All  de  sisterin  he'p  fix  me  up  wid  whiskers  uv  fiah- 
wucks  an'  things  on  my  back,  an'  when  I  wus  finished 
dey  said  I  wus  hansumer  den  dey  ever  seed  me  befo', 


74  "UNCLE  WASH" 

an'  I  had  'em,  boss,  whar  I  could  er  started  er  church 
uv  my  own  wid  all  dem  sisterin  es  charter  members. 
Two  uv  de  bes'  lookers  kissed  me  kase  de  said  dey  nuver 
had  kissed  Sandy  Claws  in  dey  life.  When  it  comes  to 
inventin' er  reason  fur  eatin'  furbiddin'  fruit  don't  ole 
Eve's  gals  all  over  de  wourl'  sho'  dey  pedigree?  But 
Sis  Tilly  wus  de  one  I  wus  arter,  an '  she  sed  she  wus 
gwine  ter  kiss  me  arter  de  ball  ef  I  acted  ole  Sandy  well. 

"De  sisterin'  had  spent  er  week  on  de  tree  an'  it 
looked  mighty  putty  all  lit  up,  new  candles  all  over  it 
an'  in  de  house.  De  leetle  niggers  sot  in  de  front  pew 
waitin'  fur  ole  Sandy  lack  dey  knowed  him  all  dey  life, 
an'  de  church  wus  full  an'  all  uv  dem  happy  an'  me  de 
biggest  man  in  de  bunch,  prancin'  behind  de  stage  wid 
Kris'mus  in  my  bones  an'  feelin  lak  ole  Tom  Hal  at  de 
fust  signs  uv  blue  grass  in  de  spring.  Br'er  Jones,  de 
preacher,  wus  makin'  er  leetle  talk  an'  tellin'  de  chillun 
de  usual  lies  about  ole  Sandy,  an'  what  er  mighty  man 
he  wus,  an'  heah  I  cum  prancin'  out,  lak  er  blin'  horse 
over  'tater  rows.  I  wus  so  dazed  when  I  cum  out  1 
cu'dn't  see  nuffin  but  holly  an'  wool  all  over  de  house. 
But  I  seed  Sis  Tilly  on  de  fus'  bench  wid  er  big  smile  on 
reddy  to  vote  in  de  afTermative. 

"  'Dar's  old  Sandy!  Dar's  ole  Sandy!'  dey  all 
shouted,  an'  sech  er  hurow! 

"  It  wus  up  ter  me  to  act,  an'  I  done  my  bes',  but  Fs 
reached  dat  stage,  like  all  ole  men,  when  I  thinks  I 
wants  a  whole  lot  mo'  than  I  do,  an'  I  out-acted  my 
self.  I  ripped  an  '  I  r'ared,  I  pranced  an'  I  prared  an' 
shuck  my  head  at  de  chillun  lak  er  billy  goat,  whilst 
ever'body  howled  an'  de  organ  struck  up. 


UNCLE  WASH  PLAYED  SANTA  GLAUS  75 

"I's  heerd,  sah,  dat  Marse  Horris  Greely  sed  dat 
ef  our  foresight  wus  es  good  es  our  hin'sight  we'd  be 
better  off  by  a  dam  sight,  but  dat  is  whar  Marse  Horris 
wus  wrong — it  wus  my  hin'sight  dat  went  back  on  me, 
fur  in  prancin'  an'  backin'  aroun'  I  backed  dat  pack 
o'  fiahwucks  into  a  lighted  candle  an'  jes  es  de  congre- 
gashun  struck  up  dat  good  ole  hymn,  'SMI  I  be  kerried 
to  de  skies  on  flowery  beds  uv  ease,'  I  heerd  sum  pin'  goin' 
off  in  my  rear  like  de  parked  guns  at  Shiloh  an'  I 
started  to  de  skies  sho'  nuff,  an'  nuffiin  but  de  cealin' 
kept  me  frum  gwine  on!  It  looked  like  ter  me  fur 
ten  minets  I  rid  de  air  on  fiah  wucks.  Two  cannon 
crackers  tuck  off  my  boots,  my  pants  went  out  de 
winder  actin'  as  de  tail  uv  er  skyrocket,  er  torpedo 
scattered  my  stumic  till  de  feathers  looked  lak  snow 
fallin ',  I  wus  sot  afiah  from  my  shurt  to  my  whiskers, 
an'  ef  I  hadn't  lit  in  de  baptismal  pool  when  I  fell,  God 
knows  I  w'udn't  er  bin  heah  to-night. 

"I'd  bin  baptized  twice  befo,  but  I  nurver  seed  eny 
candidate  go  into  de  water  so  willing  agin.  I's  allers 
sed  emershun  wus  de  only  way  o'  salvashun',  an'  now, 
thank  God,  I  kno's  it ! 

"  But  so  he'p  me,  sah,  dem  fiahwucks  wus  so  spiteful 
dey  even  kep'  a  poppin'  under  de  watah.  Dey  sed 
it  wus  a  sight  ter  see  dey  blue  balls  an'  yaller  balls 
cum  bilin'  outen  dat  dar  baptismal  pool  an'  sprinklin' 
Baptis'  niggers  wid  Presbeterian  doctrine. 

"When  I  got  up  near  'nuff  to  peep  over  de  brim, 
de  mos'  uv  de  congregashun  wus  under  de  benches,  but 
Br'er  Jones  had  be'n  blowed  up  astraddle  de  stove  pipe 
an'  de  benzine  and  bar's  oil  dat  he'd  greesed  his  hair 


76  "UNCLE  WASH" 

wid  wus  a-fiah.  One  uv  my  boots,  wid  er  skyrocket  in 
it,  had  caught  Sis  Tilly  in  de  mouf  jes  es  she  opened  it  to 
led  in  de  singin'.  She  c'udn't  talk,  but  she  wus 
gwine  'round  makin'  signal  fur  sumbody  to  git  er  boot 
jack  and  pull  it  out.  Nearly  ever  nigger  dar  had 
caught  er  red  ball  or  er  yaller  ball  an'  wus  bilin'  out  uv 
doors  an'  winders  cussin'  Sandy  Claws  an'  all  his  kin. 

"By  dis  time  I  wan't  lookin'  fur  yaller  balls  nor 
black  balls,  but  I  sot  up  to  my  neck  in  de  watah  beggin' 
fur  a  high  ball!  Some  still  had  sense  enuff  lef  to  put 
out  de  fiah  wid  watah  frum  de  pool,  an'  when  dey  pulled 
me  out  I  didn't  have  on  nuflfin  but  a  dough  face,  some 
burnt  whiskers  an'  patches  uv  chicken  feathers  an' 
er  leetle  skin  in  spots. 

"No,  nobody  b'leeves  in  Sandy  Claws  dar  now,  nor 
in  de  preacher  dat  lied  to  'em,  nor  in  me,  dat  tried  to 
find  Sandy  an'  found  his  claws.  De  fac'  is,  de  plan  uv 
salvashun  is  mighty  nigh  blowed  up  in  dat  chu'ch." 


SPOTTY-CUSS 

"My  ole  marster  promised  me 
Ef  I  broke  de  re'kurd  he'd  set  me  free — 
My  ole  marster  de'd  an'  gohn — 
He  left  Br'er  Washin'tun  hillin'  up  corn," 

THE  old  man  now  sleeps  in  a  room  in  the  barn. 
He  says  he  wants  to  pass  away  in  a  manger 
with  the  smell  of  hay,  and  the  maunching  horses  around 
him.  He  was  born  with  them,  he  says,  and  he  wants 
them  around  him  when  he  dies.  So  I  had  him  moved 
there  over  a  year  ago.  Now,  a  friend  gave  me  some 
game  chickens  at  the  same  time — some  of  his  fine 
war-horse  breed.  I  thought  all  war-horses  ought  to 
be  in  a  barn,  so  I  gave  them  that  building  for  their 
very  own.  I  had  been  told  that  all  summer  they  had 
been  roosting  on  the  head  of  the  old  man's  bed.  It  is 
true  I  thought  they  were  laying  precious  few  eggs;  but 
I  have  never  permitted  myself  to  doubt  the  old  man's 
honesty.  Now  and  then  I  had  heard  him  say  that  a 
pullet  had  lain  an  egg  in  his  hair  or  down  his  shirt 
collar,  or  deposited  one  at  intervals  in  his  shoes  by  the 
bedside,  which  he  had  appropriated,  of  course,  "bekase 
she  had  acted  so  sassy,"  as  he  explained  it.  But  of 
late  that  had  ceased,  and  now  he  wanted  a  change  made 
about  their  roosting.  Because,  as  he  had  told  it,  in 
the  middle  of  the  night,  last  night,  just  as  he  was 
dreaming  he  was  making  a  talk  to  the  congregation  at 

(77) 


78  "UNCLE  WASH" 

Zion,  a  newly  laid  egg  hit  him  squarely  between  his 
eyes.  It  was  that  "pesky  pullet''  again — this  time 
on  the  roost  above  his  head.  He  thought  it  wus  a  bad 
omen  for  Zion  and  a  change  must  be  made. 

He  had  been  in  to  tell  me  all  about  it.  1  had  given 
him  his  "dram,"  and  gone  to  tell  the  stable  boy  to 
move  the  chickens  for  the  sake  of  Zion.  When  I  came 
back  he  was  sitting  before  the  library  fire  humming  the 
song  above. 

"It's  jes'  a  little  'minder  uv  days  past,"  he  laughed. 
"  You  see,  I  cum  along  in  de  days  uv  thurrerbreds  an ' 
had  all  ole  Master's  horses.  Ole  Black  Maria  hilt  de 
rekurd  den,  an'  ole  Marster  tole  me  ef  I  raise  him  a 
hoss  dat  'u'd  beat  it,  he'd  set  me  free.  Wai,  suh,  fur 
thu'ty  years  I  done  my  bes'  t'inkin'  ever'  year  I'd 
be  a  free  man,  but — 

"My  ole  marster  de'd  an'  gohn— 

He    left    Br'er    Washin'tun    hillin'  up  corn," 

"  I  tell  you,  sah,  breedin'  winners  is  jes'  lak  ole  Mar 
ster  useter  say  about  great  men — some  are  bohn  great, 
some  ketch  it  by  accerdent  an '  sum  have  it  thrust  on 
'em  whurther'r  no.  It's  jes'  dat  way  wid  winners — 
dey  are  bohn  fur  some  men,  others  git  'em  by  accerdent, 
an'  still  others  try  der  bes'  to  keep  away  from  'em 
by  breedin'  to  eny  ole  thing,  an'  lo  an'  behold — er 
world  beater! 

"Why,  I  knows  lots  uv  rich  men,  sah,  dat's  ben 
breedin'  furer  world  beater  for  half  a  cent'ry,  spent 
milyuns  uv  dollars  an '  yit  de  nighest  dey  ever  cum  to  it 
is  er  pedergree  or  er  pair  uv  Cordivan  boots.  Others 


SPOTTY-CUSS  79 

can't  buy  er  dairy-wagon  or  buy  er  plow-boss  wid'out 
stumblin'  on  er  winner.  Den  dar  am  others  dat  jes' 
can't  git  rid  uv  'em  arter  fate  fling  'em  fur  'em.  Old 
Tom  Hal's  owner  told  me  he  tried  his  bes'  to  gild  de 
colt  as  a  yearlin',  but  he  had  distemper  so  bad  de  man 
'cided  he  wan't  worth  de  vet's  fee.  An'  dar  am  de 
mighty  Creechus.  Dey  tells  me  his  owner  tried  his 
bes'  to  have  him  shot  as  a  yearlin'  bekase  he  didn't 
see  how  he  c'ud  live  till  mornin',  butdey  cu'dn't  find 
a  gun  in  Ohio  dat  cud  put  a  bullet  through  er  Robert 
McGregor's  haid.  Oh,  it's  jes'  dat  way  es  I  was  tellin' 
you.  All  my  life,  as  I  was  sayin',  I  wanted  to  breed 
er  winner.  Tw'ud  set  me  free — but  I  nuver  did 
breed  but  one,  an'  he  wasn't  a  hoss,  as  I'll  tell  you 
dreckly. 

"  Uv  course  ever'  man  thinks  he's  got  er  wurl  '-beater 
in  his  fus'  boy,  an'  though  I'd  failed  at  hosses,  I  thort 
sho'  I'd  hit  it  dar.  But  the  cu'is  thing  about  chilluns," 
said  the  ole  man  gravely,  "is  dat  dey  seems  to  pan  out 
in  disproporshun  to  dey  pe'rtness.  De  ugly,  pond'rus, 
slow-growin'  young  uns  make  de  big,  brainy  men, 
whilst  de  pretty,  pe'rt  'uns  dat  we  brag  on  so  much, 
grows  up  an'  nurver  gits  outen  de  Smart  Ellic  class! 

"  I  married  er  lantern-jawed  gal  frum  Giles  County 
de  fus'  time.  She  didn't  look  lak  she  wus  much,  but  I 
tell  you,  Marse  John  she  flung  genuses  an'  poets  an' 
pie-eaters  frum  de  tap  uv  de  drum,  an'  dey  cum  wid 
de  regularity  uv  a  mother-in-law's  visits,  an'  de  cer 
tainty  uv  bad  colds.  She  seems  to  have  heurn  tell  uv  er 
rule  in  'rithmetic  ole  Marster  useter  tell  me  about,  how 
sum  things  increase  'kordin'  to  de  square  uv  de  rad- 


8o  "UNCLE  WASH" 

us-or  sumpin'  nu'ur  lak  dat — I  didn't  kno'  uv  course, 
so  she  sot  in  wid  one  boy  de  fus'  yar,  two  de  naixt,  an' 
three  de  th'ud.  So  I  had  to  put  dat  ar  'oman  erside 
an'  saunt  'er  to  her  folks  an'  tole  'em  de  only  safe  place 
fer  her  wus  housemaid  in  er  nunnery.  Wai,  sah,  I 
named  dat  fus'  boy  George  Washin'tun — for  Booker's 
daddy,  you  kno' — " 

"George  Washington  had  no  children,"  I  hastened 
to  say. 

"Ter  be  sho,"  said  the  old  man,  scratching  his  head 
dubiously.  "You  don't  say  so.  Wai,  to  be  sho!  but 
dey  was  makin '  sech  a  horay  over  dat  ar  Booker  dat  I 
'lowed  he  sho  mus'  be  George's  son.  I's  heurn  tell 
he  sed  in  his  book  he  was  'most  too  young  when  he  was 
fus'  born  to  'member  'zactly  who  his  daddy  wus  an' 
his  mammy  forgot  to  tell  'im  befo'  she  died;  but  I 
notice  how  all  de  papers  now  call  'im  'de  son  uv  our 
country,  an'  es  I's  allers  heurn  de  ole  man  Washin' 
tun  called  de  Father  uv  our  Country,  it  'peared  to  me 
he  cum  by  his  entitlements  nach'ly.  An'  den  all  three 
uv  us  is  named  Washin'tun,"  said  the  old  man  proudly. 

"But  I'll  say  one  thing  about  my  George:  Dat  ef 
he'd  happen  to  be  swappin'  yarns  in  de  back  yard  uv 
de  Whitewash  House  wid  de  Preserdent,  when  de  dinner 
bell  rung,  an'  de  Preserdent  had  slapped  'im  on  de 
back  an'  said:  'George,  ole  man,  go  wash  yo' han's 
in  de  pan  by  de  pump  on  de  back  po'ch,  whar  you  see 
dat  bar  uv  Gran'pa  soap,  an'  wipe  'em  on  de  rollin' 
towel,  ef  de  kids  hes  lef  a  clean  spot  on  it,  an'  cum 
in  an'  break  bread  wid  us,  whilst  we  discuss  how  to 
wipe  out  de  color  line  in  de  Sou'f  an'  pass  on  de  peder- 


SPOTTY-CUSS  81 

gree  uv  de  Jones  family,  d'ye  think  he'd  a  dun  it?" 
asked  the  old  man,  brusquely. 

"  I  don't  see  why,"  I  said.     "  I  think  I  should." 

The  old  man  shook  his  head:  "Uh-er-r-r!  You 
cain't  see  fur  'nuff,  chile;  It's  de  hoss  dat  can  see 
furdest  'roun'  de  corner  uv  de  last  turn  in  de  home 
stretch  dat's  apt  to  get  to  de  wire  fust." 

"  'No,'  George  'ud  said,  in  his  fine  way — fur  George 
was  aigecated:  '  Please  'scuse  me,  Mister  Preserdent, 
from  performin'  eny  evolushun  wid  de  nigger  in  de 
North  dat'll  make  eny  mo'  hemp  grow  fur  'em  inde 
Sou'f.  Yo'  intenchuns  am  good,  but  you  don't  seem 
to  kno'  dat  we  don't  keer  so  much  'bout  de  honor  uv 
eatin'  one  dinner  er  year  wid  you.  Whut's  botherin' 
us  is  whar  we  gwine  git  de  other  three  hundred  an 
sixty-fo' !  An'  we're  got  to  git  'em  out  uv  de  Souf. ' 

"But  George  died,"  he  said  sadly;  "Genusesallers 
do.  At  de  country  fair  he  went  ag'in  de  rekurd  uv 
eatin'  sixteen  pies  in  two  minutes,  an'  done  it  in 
i :  59^ — Star  Pointer's  time.  But  it  kil't  him." 

The  old  man  wept.    I  had  to  give  him  another  dram. 

"  It  was  'long  in  '68,  arter  de  war,  dat  I  raised  de 
raal  wurl-beater  I  started  to  tell  'bout.  Dem  wus  hard 
times  den,  when  dey  sot  us  free  an'  ole  Marsterquit 
feedin'  us.  De  ole  mare  starved  to  de'th,  de  colt  died 
— ever'thing  died  but  de  'leben  chillun  we  had,  de 
house  dorg  an'  er  speckled  shote  we  called  Spotty- 
cuss.  Now,  Spotty-cuss  wus  bred  for  bacon,  but  ole 
granny  Natur  is  mighty  kind,  an'  when  she  changes  de 
kondishun  uv  animals  she  changes  dey  instinct.  De 
Lord  tempers  de  wind  to  de  shorn  lam',  an'  when  dat 


82  "UNCLE  WASH" 

shote  found  he  want  gwin'ter  git  no  mo'  to  eat,  an'  if 
he  survived  at  all  he  mus'  do  it  by  out  runnin'  de  free 
niggers,  he  quit  takin  on  bacon  an'  went  in  fur  speed. 
From  a  fat,  roun'  Buckshur  uv  de  good  ole  slavery 
days,  he  turned  into  er  long  snout,  two  years,  er  roach 
back  an'  long  tail  an'  fo'  cat  hammed  legs  that  cu'd 
jump  er  ten  rail  fence  eny  moon  light  night,  or  run 
'cross  er  county  in  a  close  place.  He  had  de  mos' 
deceptive  trot  in  de  wurl'. 

"It  wus  fun  to  see  'im  sorter  trot  er  long  lak  he  wus 
lookin'  fur  acorns,  an'  cover  twenty  miles  er  hour, 
an*  ef  er  nigger  got  at  'im  he'd  just  say,  'Whoof!' 
an'  dat  coon  would  have  to  jedge  by  de  soun'  uv  his 
voice  which  way  he  went  through  de  air. 

"Long  'bout  dat  time  ole  Marster  got  inter  er 'spute 
wid  er  man  named  Stallins  'bout  which  hoss  cu'd  beat 
— ole  Marster's  or  Stallin's.  It  wus  in  de  fall  uv  de 
year  an'  it  looked  lak  starvashun  for  me  dat  winter, 
when  one  day  jes  befo'  de  fall  fair  I  seed  dis  stuck  up 
in  a  tree  by  de  road,"  and  the  old  man  pulled  out  an 
old  print,  yellow  with  age,  and  I  read  aloud: 

"A   CHALLENGE." 

"The  Honorable  Jere  Stallings  will  match  his  three- 
year' old  filly,  Arcalia,  against  any  horse  in  Maury  Co.— 
play  or  pay — for  $500,  fall  fair  1868. 

"N.  B. — Or  anything  else  on  four  legs  that  wears 
hair!" 

The  old  man  laughed.  "  Now  dat  End  Bee  per'd  ter 
me  to  let  Spotty-cuss  in  an'  I  seed  my  chance.  I  tell 


SPOTTY-CUSS  83 

you,  boss,  I's  lived  er  long  time,  but  de  main  thing  in 
dis  life  is  ter  see  de  chances  dat  come.  You  may  be 
sho'  dey'll  come. 

"Wai,  I  started  at  once  to  train  Spotty-cuss.  Now 
dat  wus  easy  'nuff — he  had  de  speed  an'  all  I  had  to  do 
wus  to  keep  'im  hongry.  I  put  'im  in  er  log  crib  wid 
no  cracks,  fur  he  cu'd  go  through  two  inches  'an'  gin 
'im  er  leettle  hot  bran  mash  ever  other  day  in  slop.  When 
he  got  too  hongry  I'd  have  de  kids  rub  'im  down  wid 
corn-cobs  'twell  he  went  to  sleep  in  de  sunny  corner. 
I's  heurn  tell  dat  sev'ral  drivers  do  dat  way  now  to  git 
speed,  but  I  first  thort  it  up. 

"When  I  went  to  feed  'im  two  uv  de  kids  would  take 
'im  off  in  a  box  a  mile  from  home;  den  I'd  pull  out 
my  watch  an'  holler:  'Pig-ee-whoo-upl  Whoo-up!  an* 
time  'im  es  he  cum.  At  de  soun'  uv  my  voice 
he'd  light  out — de  boys  sed  all  dey  would  heah 
wus  his  tail  crack  es  he  wen'  through  de  air,  an'  de 
naix  minnit  he'd  be  at  home  wid  his  nose  in  de  slop- 
bucket. 

"De  white  folks  was  so  busy  'sputin'  fur  a  place  de 
day  uv  de  fair  dey  don't  pay  no  'tenshun  to  me  an'  de 
kids  when  we  tuck  Spotty-cuss  in  his  box  to  de  haid  uv 
de  stretch.  Dar  wus  half  a  dozen  hosses  in,  'sides  ole 
Marster's  an'  Stallins'.  De  war  had  ruined  all  de 
'roun'  tracks,  so  dey  had  dis  laid  off  straight  away 
down  in  a  meador  bottom.  De  boys  sot  de  box  at  one 
end  wid  de  hosses  in  line,  an'  I  stood  jes'  beyant  de  wire 
wid  de  slop  an'  bran  mash.  He  hadn't  had  none  fur 
nigh  two  days  an*  wus  hongry  ernuff  to  eat  er  keg  uv 
b'iled  gimlits.  At  de  crack  uv  de  gun,  when,  de  hosses 


84  "UNCLE  WASH" 

started,  de  kids  turned  'im  loose  jes'  es  I  hollered, 
'Pig-ee-whoo-up  I '  an '  heah  he  come ! 

"De  fus'  thing  he  done  was  run  under  de  nigh  hoss 
an*  take  de  pole,  an'  frum  dere  on  he  led  de  whole  gang 
home,  me  hollerin'  'Pig-ee-whoo-upl'  de  riders  hol 
lerin'  an'  whippin',  an  de  folks  goin  'crazy  ter  see  a 
razor-back  beat  thurrerbreds. 

"I  have  never  seed  nuthin  run  es  he  did.  He  jes 
bored  a  hole  thru '  de  air.  An '  ole  Marster  sez,  he  come 
so  fas'  he  tho'rt  it  wus  war  times  agin,  fer  dat  horg 
made  a  noise  through  de  air  lak  a  bomb-shell,  his  tail 
poppin  on  de  end  lak  de  fuse.  He  beat  'em  er  mile  an'  a 
half  in  de  mile  an'  when  de  crowd  seed  it  an'  caught 
on,  you  nuver  seed  sech  laifin. ' 

"Wai,  sah,  Stallin's  didn'  wanter  see  it  dat  way, 
but  de  la'f  wus  on  'im,  de  crowd  wus  fer  me,  an'  I 
went  up  an'  claimed  de  money  under  dat  End  Bee. 
Dis  made  Stallins  red-hot  an'  he  'lowed  he  kick  us  both 
off  de  groun's. 

"Now,  de  bes'  frien'  a  nigger  has  is  de  white  man 
dat's  onc't  owned  'im.  Ole  Marster  drawed  his  gun 
an*  sed  ef  he  touch  arry  one  uv  us  dar  w'ud  be  a  fun'- 
ral;  dat  his  filly  was  naixt  ter  Spottycuss,  an'  ef  he 
didn't  claim  de  money  nobody  else  c'ud. 

"Dat  settled  it,  an'  dey  paid  it  ter  me,  an'  dat," 
said  the  old  man  proudly,  "gin  me  my  start,  thanks  to 
ole  Marster's  grit  an'  Spotty-cuss'  speed!" 


MISS  ANT'NETTE'S  PROVHT. 

IT  was  a  sharp  gallop  across  the  pasture  and  a  quick 
turn  into  the  woodlot. 

"And  now  we  must  run  for  it,  Antoinette — for  the 
the  old  man's  cabin — or  we  will  get  a  drenching  for  our 
laziness.  So  here  goes,  good  filly — show  the  clouds 
your  heels."  And  she  did,  the  sly  witch.  This  was 
just  to  her  mind.  She  was  too  full  of  golden  running 
blood,  mingled  with  the  silver  strains  of  the  saddler, 
not  to  love  a  good  run  whenever  she  got  a  chance. 
Nothing  suited  her  better  than  to  run  through  the  blue 
grass  lot,  where  the  turf,  pressed  by  her  shapely  hoofs, 
rose  like  a  sponge  under  them  and  gave  to  her  bound 
the  elasticity  of  a  fawn's. 

The  rain  came  down  in  big  drops  as  we  cleared  the 
ditch.  I  saw  the  shower  behind  us  as  I  looked  back, 
and  felt  a  thickening  of  the  mist  in  my  face.  But  the 
next  instant  the  filly  was  bolting  like  a  quarter  horse 
across  a  level  plot,  swept  perilously  swift  through  the 
narrow  little  gate  that  stood  open  near  the  cabin  door, 
and,  with  a  quick  snort  that  scattered  half  a  dozen 
chickens  which  had  run  under  the  old  darky's  shed, 
out  of  the  rain,  she  came  to  a  halt  under  the  big  shed, 
tossing  and  shaking  her  head  gleefully,  and  half  rising  on 
her  hind  feet,  as  if  she  longed  to  get  out  and  try  it  over 
again.  But  the  rain  was  pouring  down  by  this  time,  and 
the  old  darky  had  run  out,  and  now  stood  at  the  filly's 
head,  true  to  his  raising,  while  I  dismounted. 

(85) 


86  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"Hi,  hi!"  he  laughed,  "but  wa'n't  she  comin'briefly 
'cross  dat  pastur?  Didn't  she  split  dem  rain-drops 
wide?  Oh,  she's  er  darling,  is  dis  Ant'nette!  Jes 
lak  her  grandam  by  de  same  name.  My,  I  jest  nachelly 
luvs  ennything  wid  dat  name.  But  cum  in  an'  dry 
yere  cloze.  Dinah's  got  de  fiah  hummin'  by  now. 
We  seed  you  comin'  an'  Dinah  feered  you  gwi'  git  wet, 
but  I  'lowed  you  w'udn't.  Sez  I :  'A  good  hoss  am 
better' n  a  rubber  coat  in  a  rainstorm,  and  dat's 
what  you  had.' 

"I  knowwhut  I'm  talking'  'bout,' he  added/' 'fur  I 
raised  her  grandam — thurrer-bred  mare — belonged  to 
Miss  Ant'nette,  my  young  mistress.  De  best  filly  dat 
ever  stood  on  iron  or  swum  er  flood. " 

I  smiled  at  the  ambiguity  of  old  Wash's  remarks,  and 
started  in  the  cabin  to  dry  my  boots  and  hear  his  daily 
report  of  the  lambs  and  calves,  for  he  tended  to  both 
on  the  farm. 

We  had  reached  the  cabin  door,  and  in  his  eagerness 
to  tell  me  all  about  the  filly's  grandma,  he  ran  over  his 
little  grandchild  standing  in  the  doorway,  watching 
us  in  open-mouthed  wonder.  The  child  screamed, 
and  the  old  man  indignantly  slapped  it  across  the 
cabin  floor,  where  it  rolled  itself  up  in  straw  tick  and 
smothered  its  yells.  A  moment  later,  it  had  its  head 
out,  as  if  nothing  had  happened,  and  was  listenting 
with  evident  satisfaction  to  hear  what  would  happen 
next. 

"Hit  makes  me  mad,"  said  the  old  man,  apolo 
getically,  "to  see  de  no-mannered  ways  uv  dis  heah 
young  generashun  uv  niggers.  Dey  stan'  an'  gape  at 


MISS  ANT'NETTE'S  PROVIN'  87 

white  folks,  lak  dey  nurver  seed  eny  thing  uv  de  kind 
befo.' 

"Does  you  think  de  gen 'man  am  a  white  elerfant, 
sah?"  he  shouted  ironically  at  the  straw  tick. 

A  short,  apologetic  wail  came  up  from  the  straw,  and 
then  hushed  in  a  most  sudden,  inquisitive  manner. 

"Mebbe  you  think  he's  er  brass  ban'  an'  er  ban'- 
waggin,"  he  shouted  again,  with  sarcasm. 

"I  tell  you,  sah,"  said  the  old  man,  addressing  him 
self  to  me,  "dat  boy's  mammy  was  aigucated  an'  you 
sees  whut  de  offspring  cum  to.  Ef  dis  thing  keep  on  an ' 
de  nigger  race  git  a  leetle  more  aigucashun,  it  won't 
have  sense  ernuf  lef  ter  take  keer  uv  itself. " 

"But  I  started  to  tell  you  'bout  Miss  Ant'nette," 
he  said,  and  then,  going  to  the  old  mantle,  he  took 
down  a  rare  old  daguerreotype  and  put  it  in  my  hands. 

It  was  a  beautiful  piece  of  art,  the  work  of  the  famous 
old  daguerreotyper,  Brady,  of  New  York,  and  as  rare 
as  beautiful,  one  of  those  exquisitely  natural  things 
which  modern  photography  with  all  its  science,  has 
never  yet  approached. 

A  young  girl  of  twenty,  in  a  neatly  turned  riding 
habit,  as  simple  as  it  was  elegant,  looked  out  at  me 
from  under  a  large,  full  hat,  with  eyes  as  romantic  as  a 
shadowy  moon,  and  yet  as  full  of  love  and  light  and 
warmth  as  the  stars.  Around  the  hat  circled  a  most 
splendid  ostrich  feather— one  giant  and  beautiful  plume 
— which  fell  over  the  hat  and  half  circled  around  her 
graceful  neck,  in  a  profusion  of  rich  and  glorious  splen 
dor.  Her  face  was  pure  Southern,  with  a  classic, 
lilting  fullness  and  charming  hauteur  that  was  queenly. 


88  "UNCLE  WASH" 

The  old  man  greatly  enjoyed  my  surprise  and  the 
unconcealed  admiration  in  my  face,  and  he  finally 
burst  out  enthusiastically: 

"Dat's  de  filly  I  wus  tellin'  you  erbout,  Gord  bless 
her  sweet  soul!  Dat's  Miss  Ant'nette,  my  young  mis 
tress.  De  same  dat  de  mare  wus  named  fur,"  and  he 
could  hardly  contain  himself  in  his  anxiety,  in  his  own 
inimitable  way,  to  tell  it  all. 

"When  de  war  broke  out,  it  was  pull  Dick,  pull 
Devil,  es  to  which  army  should  have  Middle  Tennessee. 
When  Donelson  fell,  de  Yankees  had  us,  an'  when 
Bragg  went  into  Kentucky,  why  we  jes'  nachully  had 
dem. 

"An'  de  raids — Gord,  sah,  I  nurver  got  as  tired  uv 
raids  in  my  life!  It  wus  fus'  Wilder,  an'  den  Forrest, 
an'  den  Wilson,  an'  den  Wheeler,  twell  it  looked  lak 
our  corn  crib  nurver  would  get  any  rest.  Meny  an' 
meny  er  night  I've  gohn  to  bed  an'  didn't  know  when 
I  wake  up  whether  I  be  er  Yankee  or  er  Johnny  Reb. 
Gord  bless  your  soul,  honey,  I  didn't  want  er  hurt  no 
body's  feelin'  an'  git  up  no  fight,  an*  I  allers  made  it 
er  pint  to  ergree  wid  de  side  dat  hilt  de  fort  on  Duck 
River,  an'  had  dey  guns  sorter  pinted  t'words  my 
cabin.  Ef  it  wus  Marse  Abe  Lincoln's  guns,  I  wus  fur 
Marse  Abe,  an'  ef  it  wus  Marse  Jeff  Davis'  guns,  I  wus 
fur  Marse  Jeff. 

"But  Miss  Ant'nette  didn't  change!  Gord,  sah,  no! 
She  wus  rebel  frum  de  sassy-lookin'  turn  uv  her  he'd 
to  de  sole  uv  her  leetle  feet  dat  twinkled  lak  daisies 
when  she  run  over  de  lawn.  An'  as  fur  her  bein' 
feered!  Lord,  she  jes'  turned  up  her  nose  at  de 


MISS  ANT'NETTE'S  PROVIN'  89 

whole  Yankee  army!    She  wasn't  feered  uv  nothin', 
altho'  she  looked  lak  er  lily  in  er  ball  room. 

"We  all  thout  she  an'  Marse  Luchus  wus  gwin'ter 
marry  befo'  de  war  broke  out.  I  can't  tell  when  de 
time  wus  dey  wa'n't  sweethearts.  Dey  plantashuns 
jined  an'  dey  went  to  skule  togedder  an'  dey  grewed 
up  togedder,  an'  jes'  nachelly  luv  each  yudder,  an' 
wus  made  fur  each  yudder,  lak  sunshine  an  flowers. 
Wy,  sah,  when  Marse  Luchus  wus  er  leetle  boy,  he 
useter  write  poltry  to  Miss  Ant'nette,  an 'send  it  on  er 
silver  waiter  by  a  nigger  boy  wid  de  Chester  moner- 
gram.  I  disremember  sum  uv  dat  poltry  now," 
said  the  old  man,  repeating  very  slowly  and  with  much 
misgivings : 

'Ef  I  luved  you  lak  you  luve  me, 
No  knife  could  cut  our  luv  in  two/ 

"Now,  ain't  dat  good  poltry  fur  er  boy?"  he  asked. 

"Quite,"  I  smiled.  "It's  a  wonder  they  had  not 
captured  him  for  some  of  the  magazines.  Its  fully 
up  to  their  standard." 

"No,  no,"  said  the  old  man  quickly,  "dey  cudn't 
captur'  him!  De  Yankees  tried  dat.  Dat's  whut  I's 
gwin'ter  tell  you  'bout.  I  'clar  ter  goodness,  I  don't 
know  whut  luvers  would  do  ef  dey  cudn't  quarl  ever 
now  an'  den.  I  don't  b'leeve  dar  would  ever  be  er 
marriage  in  de  wurl.  Fur  quar'ls  seem  to  act  on  luv 
lak  pepper  an'  saltpeter  on  fatnin'  horgs;  er  kinder 
change  in  de  diet,  you  know — sumpin  to  make  'em 
eat  mo*  when  dey  git  back  to  dey  legitermates." 

"Now,  heah  wus  Miss  Ant'nette  an'  Marse  Luchus 


90  "UNCLE  WASH" 

gwine  on  luvin'  each  yudder  lak  two  leetle  patterges 
all  dey  life  twell  jes'  es  de  war  broke  out.  Den  on  de 
eve  uv  dat  fool  war,  when  it  look  lak  Gord  dun  shet  de 
pastur'  gates  uv  heab'n  on  de  wurl,  an  turn  his  back  on 
us,  an'  dun  gohn  off  in  the  medders  to  feed  his  lambs 
an'  sheep  up  dar,  an'  let  let  dorgs  and  wolves  fight 
it  out  on  de  outside,  heah  dese  two  chilluns,  dat  luve 
each  udder  hard  ernuf  to  die  fur  it,  jes'  up  an'  gits 
mad  an'  parts  in  mizery,  when  de  chances  wus  dey'd 
nurver  see  each  udder  ergin. 

"  Hit  happened  at  de  ball  at  Miss  Ant'nette's  de  night 
befo'  de  soljers  marched  to  de  war.  All  de  young 
officers  wus  dar,  to  dance  de  farewell  dance,  befo' 
dey  went  into  dat  dance  uv  death,  an'  hit  wus  a  pooty 
pictur,  ef  dar  ever  wus  one.  De  plumes  an'  unerforms 
an'  silk  dresses  an'  sashays,  an'  low-necks,  an'  turn- 
yer-partners  an'  gold  and  lace  promenade — uv  dat 
cump'ny,  Gord,  sah,  Miss  Ant'nette  wus  de  queen,  an' 
Marse  Lushus  was  King. 

"He'd  bin  'lected  Cap'n  uv  his  comp'n'y,  an'  ef  dey 
urver  wus  er  bohn  soljer,  he  wus  de  one! 

"Dar  wus  a  young  man  at  dat  ball  Marse  Lushus 
didn't  lak — he  nurver  had  laked  him — tho'  his  folks 
wus  rich  an'  he  had  fine  cumpa'ny  manners  an'  all 
dat.  He  wa'nt  our  kinder  white  folks,  dat's  all,  an' 
Marse  Lushus  knowed  it,  an'  he  axed  Miss  Ant'nette 
not  to  waltz  wid  dat  kinder  man.  Miss  Ant'nette  sor 
ter  laf  an'  say: 

"  'Luchus,  you  ain't  jelus  uv  Mister  Brice,  are  you?' 
an'  she  give  him  er  look  dat  would  make  de  heart  beat 
in  a  marble  man. 


MISS  ANT'NETTE'S  PROVIN'  91 

"  '  I'm  jelous  uv  nobody,  Ant'nette,'  he  said  proudly. 
An'  then  he  whisper' d  in  her  leetle  year, '  fur  I  wear  de 
ring  an'  de  promise  uv  de  only  queen  in  de  wurl.' 

"Miss  Ant'nette  blush  an'  say:  'An',  sir  knight, 
would  you  not  have  your  queen  beluved?' 

"  'It  ain't  dat,'  sed  Marse  Lushus,  'I  don't  blame 
ennybody  fur  doin'  whut  I  can't  help  doin'  myself — 
luvin  you, 'he  said, 'but  I  don't  want  you  to  waltz 
wid  Mister  Brice. 

"  'O,  ho,'  say  Miss  Ant'nette,  wid  er  leetle  laf,  'I 
see;  you  willin'  nuff  fur  me  ter  be  queen,  but  you 
want  er  be  king,  too.' 

"Marse  Luchus  flushed  an'  looked  sorter  vexed. 

"  'De  questun  uv  whuther  or  not  I  shall  waltz,'  she 
went  on,  sorter  'tarmined  lak,  'I  will  decide  fur  my 
self,  wid  mama's  consent;  but  ef  you  kno'  Mister 
Brice  is  not  er  gent'  man,  I  think  you  should  tell 
me/ 

"Marse  Luchus  turned  quick  es  er  shot.  Then  he 
sed,  'I  could  not  es  er  gent'man  tell  you  mo'  in  his 
absence  than  I  tole  him  ter-day  ter  his  face — a  dastard 
in  peace  an'  er  tra'ter  in  war,'  I  knowed  whut  I  wus 
sayin',  he  said,  'an'  he  dared  not  resent  it.' 

"  'But  I've  already  promised  ter  waltz  wid  'im,' 
said  Miss  Ant'nette  ergin,  sorter  'tarminedly. 

"  'Ant'nette, '  said  Marse  Lushus,  slowly  and  sternly, 
'ef  you  waltz  wid  dat  man  I'll  tell  you  good-bye  fur 
ever. ' 

"  Dat  wus  er  bad  break  fur  Marse  Lushus  ter  make, 
fur  Miss  Ant'nette  cum  frum  stock  es  proud  an' 
'tarmined  es  his'n.  'Sides  dat,  it  put  her  in  de 


92  "UNCLE  WASH" 

light  uv  bein'  de  wooer,  an'  I'll  nuver  furgit  de  proud 
an'  ladylak  way  she  cum  back  at  'im: 

"  'An  so  you  hang  the  desterny  uv  our  luve  on  er 
threat,  would  you?  So  be  it,  Cap'n  Chester.  You 
will  yet  learn  dat  luve  can  be  led  but  nurver  driven!' 
An'  then  she  turn  an'  bow  lak  de  queen  she  wus  to  dat 
Mr.  Brice,  who  cum  up  jes'  den  ter  claim  his  waltz,  an' 
den  she  jes'  waltzed  erway  wid  'im. 

"Fur  er  minnit  I  seed  Marse  Lushus  turn  white  es  er 
stone,  an'  I  thout  he'd  faint,  spite  uv  de  grit  I  knowed 
wus  in  'im.  Den  he  wheeled  in  er  millertery  way  an' 
turned  his  back  on  de  ballroom  an'  he  beckin'  ter  me 
an'  I  followed  'im.  He  went  in  de  sittin'  room,  sot 
down  by  de  table,  tuck  out  paper  an'  pencil,  an'  writ 
on  de  paper.  Den  he  pulled  off  er  ring  he  had  on  his 
finger — er  plain  gold  ring — put  de  ring  in  de  note,  riz 
an  sed: 

"  *  Carry  dis  ter  yore  young  Mistis. '  An '  as  I  bowed 
ter  go,  he  hilt  out  his  han'  ter  me  in  his  frank  way  an' 
sed,  "Good-bye,  Uncle  Wash.  My  comp'ny  will  march 
at  daylight.' 

"When  I  got  back  to  de  ball-room,  de  waltz  wus  over, 
an'  I  foun'  Miss  Ant'nette  settin'  in  de  bay  winder  an* 
dat  mister  man,  talkin'  es  onconsarned  es  ef  nothin' 
hed  happened.  I  stop  an'  bowed  befo'  her  es  perlite 
es  I  cud.  She  beckin  me  ter  cum  up.  Den  I  axed  her, 
sorter  low,  ef  I  wus  ter  deliver  her  er  note  I  had  fer  her. 
She  laf  an'  sed,  'of  course,'  an'  I  handed  it  ter  her  all 
crumpled  up  'round  de  ring.  She  didn't  kno'  de  ring 
wus  dar,  an'  it  fell  out.  Mister  Brice  picked  it  up  er 
kinder  beamin'  smile  on  his  face  an'  han'  it  ter  her. 


MISS  ANT'NETTE'S  PROVIN'  93 

She  wus  deadly  pale  but  she  laf  an'  thank  im'  an'  ax 
im'  ter  'scuse  her  whilst  she  red  de  note. 

"When  she  finished  it  she  wus  paler  still,  but  game 
ter  de  las'  fur  she  smile  es  ef  nothin'  wus  de  matter, 
say  sumpin'  pleasant  to  Mr.  Brice,  an'  han'  'em  both 
back  ter  me  wid  er  laf  an'  say:  ' Thank  you;  you 
may  go  now  an'  have  'em  bofe  fur  yore  trouble/  an' 
I  got  'em  ter  dis  day,"  said  the  old  man,  as  he  looked 
in  a  small  box  behind  the  daguerreotype  on  the  mantel, 
and  brought  forth  a  plain  gold  ring  and  a  crumpled 

note. 

"I  disremember  de  note,"  he  said,  "but  hits  mighty 
pooty  poltry,  an'  I'll  ax  you  ter  read  it  ter  me." 

I  took  it  and  read  aloud, 

"  From  the  rose  you  have  brushed  its  sweet  sparkle  of 

dew, 

From  the  peach  the  soft  satin  that  gave  it  its  hue; 
You  have  touched  all  too  roughly  the  butterfly's  wing, 
And  shaken  the  bloom  where  the  honey  bees  cling; 
You  have  breathed  on  the  bubble  that  young  love  had 

blown, 

And  the  rosebud  of  love  from  its  stem  you  have  torn. 
You  have  wakened  the  sleeper  ere  his  dreaming  was 

through, 
And  so  my  fair  waltzer,  gay  waltzer,  adieu!" 

"De  naixt  mornin,'  sho,  'nufT,  Marse  Luchus  was 
gohn,  but  dat  Mister  Brice  wa'n't  gohn,  an'  es  de  war 
went  on  an'  he  made  fus  one  excuse  an'  den  ernuder, 
I  gun  ter  think  Marse  Luchus  'bout  sized  'im  up  right, 


94  "UNCLE  WASH" 

an'  when  he  turned  tra'ter,  I  knowed  Marse  Luchus 
wus  right. 

"An'  I  clar  ter  goodness  I  lak  ter  got  mad  wid  Miss 
Ant'nette  fur  de  way  she  kerried  on  wid  'im.  She  rid 
wid  'im  an'  went  wid  'im  t'well  it  got  ter  be  de  sayin' 
in  der  county  dat  she  gwine  marry  'im.  But  I  seed  thru' 
dat.  She  wus  jes'  too  proud  ter  let  enybody  kno' 
she  keers  for  Marse  Luchus,  fur  aldough  she  laf  an' 
flirt  wid  dat  mister-man,  after  a  battle,  when  de  news 
cum  dat  Marse  Luchus  wus  mighty  nigh  dead,  I  foun ' 
her  one  night  on  der  front  porch  all  huddled  up  in  der 
dark  an'  er  cryin'  ter  herself. 

"Wai,  suh,  den  cum  de  raids  I  wus  tellin'  'bout. 
De  Yankees  tuck  de  town  fust,  an*  I'll  nuver  furgit 
de  day  I  seed  my  fust  Yankee.  It  was  Gineral  Wilder 
hisself,  er  fme-lookin'  man  on  er  fine  hoss,  an'  when  he 
rid  up  ter  our  gate  ter  ax  me  'bout  de  road  an'  I  seed 
his  blue  unerform  an'  dat  de  wus  er  Yankee,  I  lak  ter 
drapped  in  my  tracks,  I  wus  so  'stounded!  Wy, 
man-er-live,  he  looked  just  lak  our  folks!  I'd  heurd 
so  much  'bout  'em  twell  I  thort  dey  wus  furrin  kinder 
creeter,  er  cross  'twixt  eriginal  sin  an'  de  devil  wid 
horns  an'  skaley  backs,  an'  all  dat.  But  when  I  seed 
dat  nice-lookin'  gen 'man  an'  heurn  'im  talk  so  nice  an' 
perlite,  I'lowed  den  an'  dar  dat  Yankees  wus  white 
folks,  too,  an'  I  sed  ter  myself,'  dis  gwine  er  be  er  white 
folks  war,  an'  er  long  an'  bloody  one.' 

"But  one  mohnin'  dey  wus  a  terribul  clatter  an' 
shootin'  down  de  rode.  Our  folks  wus  makin'  er  raid, 
an*  Marse  Luchus  an'  his  comp'ny  hed  rushed  thru 
de  town,  driv  de  Yankees  cross  de  bridge  over  de  ribber, 


MISS  ANT'NETTE'S  PROVIN'  95 

burnt  all  de  millertery  stores,  an'  wus  erway  befo'  de 
big  force  cud  cum  up  ter  de  rescue. 

"Bimeby,  I  heurd  er  turribul  clatter  an'  runnin' 
down  de  pike,  an'  heah  dey  cum  by  our  house,  Marse 
Luchus  in  de  lead — gallopin',  gallopin' ! 

"Dat  mister-man  wus  in  de  parlor  den,  but  when 
Miss  Ant'nette  seed  Marse  Luchus  at  de  haid  uv  his 
comp'ny,  fur  he'd  now  riz  to  be  kunnel,  dough  he 
didn't  have  but  er  han'ful  wid  'im  dat  day,  she  didn't 
pay  no  mo'  tenshun  ter  dat  Brice  man  den  ef  he  bin 
er  poodle  dorg,  an'  her  eyes  danced,  an'  she'd  laf  er 
leetle  an'  cry  sum,  an'  all  de  time  she  would  be  sayin' 
sorter  low,  "  Oh,  ain't  he  gran'!  Ain't  he  gran'! 

"I  seed  dey  wus  headed  fur  de  bridge  over  Big 
Bigby,  an'  I  knowed  de  bridge  wus  burned,  an'  dat  ole 
Bigby  wus  on  er  reg'lar  t'ar,  an'  would  swim  er  reger- 
ment,  'na  Marse  Luchus  didn't  kno'  it.  I'd  heurn, 
too,  dat  on  'count  uv  sum  war  killin'  dey  had  sot  er 
price  on  Marse  Luchus'  head,  an'  would  pen  'im  up 
dar  an'  kill  'im.  So  I  run  down  ter  de  fence  an'  es 
Marse  Luchus  passed  by  I  hollered  out: 

'  Marse  Luchus,  de  bridge  over  Big  Bigby  is  burned, 
an'  de  creek  is  boomin'!  Strike  'cros  he  fiel'  fur  de 
upper  ford!  Strike  'cross  he  fiel'  fur  de  bridge  on  de 
yudder  side!'  An'  dey  wheeled  an'  tuck  me  at  my 
wurd. 

But  when  Marse  Luchus  went  by,  I  seed  his  hoss 
wus  shot  an'  de  blood  wus  jes'  streamin'  frum  his 
flank,  an'  I  knowed  he  cudn't  mo'r'n  git  over  Bigby 
befo'  his  hoss  boun  ter  give  out,  an'  I  run  back  ter 
de  house  an  tole  Miss  Ant'nette. 


96  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"When  I  tole  her,  suh,  I  seed  de  jig  wus  all  up  wid 
dat  mister-man.  She  run  ter  ole  Marster  an'  cotch  his 
han'  an'  cried:  'O,  don't  let  'em  ketch  'im,  papa!' 
An'  befo'  ole  Marster  cud  say  eny thing  she  turned 
ter  me  an  sed:  'Saddle  Ant'nette  quick!' 

"Ant'nette  wus  her  saddle  mare — three-quarters 
thurrerbred  an'  de  yudder  quarter  better  bred,  an* 
she  wus  de  proudes',  gracefulles  creeter  dat  ever 
kerried  er  mistis;  no  man  had  erver  bin  on  her  back 
an'  her  mouf  wus  as  tender  es  de  mouf  uv  luve,  an' 
her  sides  es  soft  as  de  cheek  uv  er  gal,  an'  her  legs  es 
cordy  an'  hard  es  er  hoss  uv  bronze.  Run?  She  cud 
run  lak  er  quarter  hoss,  an'  stay  at  it  lak  er  steam 
engine. 

"  I  wus  so  shaky  I  cudn't  hardly  saddle  de  mare!  It 
jes'  peered  lak  my  fingers  all  got  stiff  at  onct,  lak  dey 
do  in  winter  time.  I  cudn't  hardly  buckle  de  girth, 
an'  my  legs  lak  ter  shake  me  off  en  de  groun'  but  dat 
mare  seem  to  kno'  what  wus  up,  an'  dat  I  wus  rattled 
an'  no  'count,  an'  she  jes'  rubbed  her  sweet  leetle 
nose  ergin  me  so  playful,  lak  es  ef  she'd  say:  'Be  cool, 
•ole  man,  an'  put  de  saddle  on;  I'll  do  de  res'.' 

"In  er  minnit  Miss  Ant'nette  cum  runnin'  out, 
dressed  jes'  as  you  see  her  dar,  in  dat  ridin'  habit,  an' 
de  big  hat  wid  de  ostrich  plume.  Her  eyes  look  lak 
deep  wells  when  you  look  down  an'  see  de  stars  shinin' 
in  de  bottom,  an'  her  face  wus  all  erglo'  wid  de  glory 
dat  cums  frum  doin  'things.  I'd  mounted  her  up  too 
often  ter  waste  much  time  at  dat,  an'  in  er  minnit  I 
had  de  mare  by  de  rein  wid  one  han',  whilst  I  hilt  de 
yudder  han'  low  down  ter  de  groun'.  Miss  Ant'nette 


MISS  ANT'NETTE'S  PROVIN'  97 

put  her  leetle  foot  in  it,  I  gin  her  er  slight  toss,  an'  she 
wus  in  de  saddle. 

"  'Now,  foller  me  on  ernudder  hoss/  wus  all  she  sed, 
an'  she  wheeled  an'  galloped  over  de  lawn. 

"I  bridled  ernudder  hoss'  an'  wus  after  her,  bare 
back,  in  er  minnit.  But  es  she  rid  ercross  de  lawn,  it 
looked  lak  de  road  jes'  swarmed  wid  blue-coats,  thun- 
derin'  down  de  pike  on  Marse  Luchus  trail.  Miss 
Ant'nette  see  'em  an'  make  er  quick  spurt  fur  de  gate. 
But  dey  seed  er'  an'  rushed  ter  de  gate  ter  shet  her 
off.  Dey  got  dar  fust,  an'  thinks  I,  'Dey '11  head  her, 
sho';  but  she  seed  de  move  quick,  an'  turned  de  mare's 
head  sorter  eater-cornered  straight  fur  de  rock  wall. 
It  wus  er  big  high  wall,  an'  de  calv'ry  spurred  down  de 
pike  ter  head  her  off  ergin.  I  hilt  my  breaf  when  I 
seed  de  mare  fly  at  dat  wall,  but  I  knowed  Miss  Ant' 
nette  might,  nigh  bohn  in  de  saddle,  an'  I  knowed  her 
hoss  lak  de  cap'n  knows  his  ship,  an'  jes'  at  de  proper 
time  she  felt  de  mare's  mouf  fur  der  rise  an '  dey  riz  es 
gracefully  over  de  wall  es  er  swaller  skims  over  de  sea 
an'  rizes  to  de  big  waves  in  her  path.  De  naixt  minnit 
she  had  settled  lak  er  ship,  an'  wus  runnin'  lak  er  gray- 
houn'.  When  she  hit  de  pike,  de  soljers  wa'n't  ten 
yards  behin'  her,  spurrin'  fur  all  dey  wus  worth,  an* 
shoutin': 

"  'Halt!  Halt!  Stop  her!  Ketch  her!'  An'  one  big 
feller  wus  so  anxious  to  ketch  her,  he  spurred  wid  bofe 
legs  an'  beat  his  hoss  wid  his  cap  an'  rid  right  up  'side 
his  cap'n,  crowdin'  Miss  Ant'nette  fur  all  dey  hosses 
wus  wurf.  An'  when  de  soljer  dat  wus  ridin'  by  de 
Cap'n  seed  Miss  Ant'nette  leavin'  'em  behind,  an* 


98  "UNCLE  WASH" 

w'udn't  surrender,  he  pulled  out  his  pistol  to  shoot  at 
'er,  but  befo'  he  cud  shoot,  de  Cap'n  hisself  brough  de 
butt  end  uv  his  saber  down  on  his  head  an'  knocked  'im 
clear  outen  de  saddle,  an'  I  heurs  'im  say: 

"  'You  coward!  Would  you  shoot  a  woman?' 

"An'  jes'  'bout  dat  time  I  seed  Miss  Ant'nette  get 
down  to  business.  She  brough  dat  ostrick  plume  down 
on  er  flank  dat  had  nurver  felt  even  de  wight  uv  er 
feather  befo',  Cord  bless  her  sweet  soul,  dat  mare  jes' 
sailed  erway  befo'  dem  clumsy  calv'ry  plugs  lak  er 
sassy  little  pattege-hen  befo'  er  flock  uv  noisy  crows. 

"  'Great  Gord!'  I  sed  to  myself,  "She's  headed  furde 
burned  bridge,  stid  of  de  ford;'  an'  de  naixt  instant  de 
officer  gin  er  comman': 

"  'To  de  ford!  She  can't  cross  de  creek!  We'll  git 
'im  yit!'  An'  den  I  knowed  dey'd  set  er  price  on  Marse 
Luchus'  head  an'  'twas  him  dey  wus  arter. 

"Now,  de  ford  wus  two  miles  off,  an'  de  bridge  wus 
only  er  mile  down  de  pike,  an'  when  I  seed  'em  strike 
fur  de  ford,  I  galloped  down  de  pike  ter  try  an'  stop 
Miss  Ant'nette.  I  run  hard  es  my  hoss  cud  go,  but 
when  I  got  to  de  hill  an '  look  down  at  de  burnt  bridge 
er  quarrter  uv  er  mile  below,  I  seed  Miss  Ant'nette 
plunge  in  de  creek  jes'  below  de  mill  dam,  striking  de 
water  on  de  current  side,  an'  it  whirlin'  de  mare  'round 
an*  'round,  lak  er  top.  Sez  I,  'My  Gord,  she'll  drown!' 
An'  I  galloped  down  an'  plunged  my  hoss  in.  too,  fur 
I  knowed  I  cud  swim. 

"  But,  Gord  bless  her  sweet  soul,  dat  mare  wus  es 
good  in  water  as  she  wus  on  Ian',  an'  es  soon  es  she 
ketch  her  bearin's  she  struck  out  fur  de  yudder  bank, 


MISS  ANT'NETTE'S  PROVIN'  99 

tremblin'  lak  er  leaf,  but  stanch  es  er  tree,  snortin' 
lak  er  wild  thing,  but  stiddy  an'  cool  es  de  nurve  er 
death!  In  er  minnit  she  bounded  up  de  bank,  shook 
herself  lak  er  wet  dorg,  an'  flew  ter  whar  I  seed  er 
clump  uv  horsemen  standin'  'round  de  leader,  whilst 
he  stood  over  his  dead  hoss  wid  drawn  pistol,  ter  make 
his  last  stand.  De  naixt  instant  Miss  Ant'nette  wus 
dar,  an'  es  Marse  Luchus  cought  her  out  frum  de  saddle, 
he  kissed  her  befo'  all  dem  men  an'  sed: 

'  'My  own  darling!  How  could  I  ever  have  doubted 
you? '  An '  den  de  pale  went  out  en  her  face  fur  de  fust 
time  on  dat  ride,  an'  de  mohnin'  cum  in  es  she  lookes 
up  in  his  eyes,  whilst  he  pressed  her  to  his  heart,  an* 
she  sed: 

"  'Dear  heart,  luve  can  be  led,  but  not  driven!' 

"Den  she  give  de  mare  to  Marse  Luchus,  an'  in  er 
jiffy  de  men  put  his  saddle  on  her,  an'  wid  er  cheer  dat 
shook  de  hills  dey  rid  away. 

"  I  had  put  Miss  Ant'nette's  saddle  on  my  hoss,  and 
she  wus  mounted,  ridin  erlong  when  de  Yankees  rid  up, 
an'  when  dey  seed  whut  she  had  dun,  the  Cap'n  hissef 
shouted: 

"  Three  cheers,  boys,  fur  de  gallant  girl  an '  her  mare' ! 

"An  'es  dey  give  it  wid  erwill  Miss  Ant'nette  bowed 
her  pretties'  an'  smile  her  sweetes'  much  es  ter  say: 

"  'Much  erbleeged  ter  yer,  gen'mun,  but  I's  proved 
this  day  where  my  heart  is.' ' 


THE      RESURRECTION      OF      BROTHER 
WASHINGTON 

I  HAD  not  seen  the  old  man  for  several  months,  but 
I  supposed  he  was  still  prospering  on  his  little 
farm,  when  he  walked  in  the  other  day  without  knock 
ing,  took  his  seat  by  the  fire,  and  casually  remarked 
that  March  was  always  a  bad  month  on  rheumatism. 

"Why,  how  are  you,  old  man?"  I  said,  laying  down 
my  pen  and  seeing  him  for  the  first  time.  "  I  haven't 
seen  you  for  several  months." 

"No,  I  don't  reck'n  you  is,"  he  said  quietly,  "an' 
de  reason  is,  I  ain't  seed  myse'f — I's  been  dead!" 

"What!"   I    exclaimed— "dead— are  you  joking?" 

I  looked  at  him  closely,  but  I  saw  no  evidence  of 
insanity — nothing  to  indicate  that  he  had  yet  reached 
his  dotage.  However,  I  thought  it  best  to  pass  him 
something  for  his  rheumatism.  He  quaffed  it  off  so 
naturally  that  I  knew  he  was  all  right  and  would  tell 
it  in  his  own  way. 

"Enything  happened  ter  speak  of  sense  I  be'n 
dead?"  he  asked,  indifferently  enough,  as  he  smacked 
his  lips  and  wiped  them  on  the  back  of  his  hand. 

I  was  anxious  to  hear  how  he  had  died,  but  I  knew 
any  eagerness  on  my  part  would  spoil  it,  so  I  replied: 

"Why,  no,  old  man — nothing  new.  But  you  have 
heard  of  Jupiter  Pluvius,  perhaps,  and  his  home  above 
the  clouds.  Well  he  has  kept  busy  this  spring  with  his 
watering  pot." 

(100) 


RESURRECTION  OF  WASHTNGTON       faf 

"Heard  of  'im?"  asked  the  old  man,  with  a  show 
of  wrath — "why,  I  knowed  'im — he  was  a  blue-gum 
nigger — that  Jupiter  was —  that  c'u'd  pick  five  hun 
dred  pounds  uv  cotton  in  er  day,  an'  he  run  off  wid  my 
secon'  wife  an'  jined  de  Yankees.  But  he  didn't  live 
whar  you  placed  de  rickerlischun  uv  dis  cohabitashun — 
he  lived  up  on  Bear  Creek.  No,  I  got  no  hard  feelin's 
about  it — for,  onbeknownst  to  hisse'f  he  done  me  er 
great  favor.  No,  I  ain't  got  nothin'  erg'in'  him,  nur 
de  Yankees,  nur'r." 

"I  guess  not,"  I  said,  "for  since  the  Spanish  war 
we  are  all  Yankees  now. " 

"All  Yankees  now?  Jes'  lemme  tell  you,  sonny, 
dah's  one  dat  ain't.  No,  sah,  I  am  a  S'uthern  gen'man, 
an'  I  still  b'leeves  de  nigger  was  made  to  belong  to 
somebody  dat  'ud  feed  'im  an'  mek  'im  beehave. 
All  Yankees  now?  Boss,  I  sho'  am  'shamed  uv  you! 
Well  dat's  all  right,  but  I  b'leeves  I  told  you  'bout 
co'rtin'  dat  'ar  widder — " 

"You  got  her,  didn't  you?" 

"  Boss,  did  you  urver  kno'  enybody  to  go  after  er 
widder  an'  not  get  her?  I's  got  jes'  one  rule  fur 
co'rtin' — set  up  close,  agree  on  all  p'ints,  an'  dat'll 
fetch  on  luve.  Never  'spute  wid  er  widder,  'spec- 
ally  ef  you're  c'ortin'  her.  Wait  twell  you're 
marri'd. 

"Did  you  ever  notice,  boss,  how  cu'is  a  widder  is 
about  dat  ur  c'ortin'  bis' ness?  So  difT'unt  frum  er  gal. 
Now,  when  you  co'rt  er  gal,  she  ain't  gwine  say  nuffin' 
fur  er  long  time.  She  let  you  co'rt  her  an'  co'rt  her, 
an'  sum  day,  when  she  fin'  she  luves  you,  she'll  jes' 


102  "UNCLE  WASH" 

thro'  her  arms  aroun'  yo'  neck  an'  say,  'Darlin',  I  am 
your'n — take  me!' 

"  But  wid  er  widder,  nobody  ain't  nurver  got  one  uv 
'em  to  say  'yes'  yit— but  dey  manage  to  git  dar  all  de 
same. 

"An'  dat  wus  de  way  wid  dis  heah  widder  I  co'rted. 
De  fus'  night  I  went  to  see  her  she  'lowed  she  hated 
de  very  groun'  I  walked  on,  yet  she  lemme  hoi'  her 
han'  all  de  time.  De  nex'  night  I  was  wuss'n  p'izen, 
yet  she  lemme  squeeze  her.  De  third  time  I  was 
meaner  n'  dog-fennel,  yet  I  was  good  enuff  to  hug  her. 
De  nex'  time  I  cum  she  'lowed  I  wus  de  mos'  con- 
tempt'us,  po',  ignoble,  bandy-legged  has-been  dat 
ever  was,  an'  stell  I  sho'  did  kiss  her.  De  las'  night 
she  fix  me — I  didn't  think  she'd  have  me  to  save 
my  life,  an'  lak  er  fool  I  begged  her  wuss'n  a  little 
weaned  calf,  beggin'  fur  milk.  Dat  wus  jes' 
what  she  wus  layin'  fur,  an'  so,  entirely  onbe- 
knownst  to  me,  she  had  de  preacher  wid  de  license 
dar  hid  in  de  closet,  an'  I  sw'ar  ter  goodness,  boss, 
befo'  de  cock  crow  twice  dat  'ar  'oman  had  marri'd 
me  thrice! 

"An*  den  I  died,"  he  added  solemnly.  "Yes,  boss, 
I  died  dead,  too.  You  see,  it  all  happen'  at  de  weddin' 
supper.  You  see,  boss,  de  ole  man  had  allers  been 
used  ter  drinkin'  sho'  nuff  licker,  but  dat  night  dey  dose 
me  up  wid  er  konkoction  uv  pine-top,  asserfederty  an' 
buzzard's  bre'f,  an'  'fo'  I  knowed  it  I  wus  dead.  Wy, 
boss,  dey  burried  me  on  de  fus'  Sat'd'y  arter  de  secon' 
Sunday  in  Jinuary,  an'  I  didn't  rise  ergin  'twell  de 
Chusday  arter  de  secon'  Sunday  in  March,  an'  ef  dat 


RESURRECTION  OF  WASHINGTON       103 

whisky  hadn't  er  bin  es  good  in  its  raisin'  grace  es  'twus 
in  its  fallin'  grace,  I'd  er  bin  dar  yit. 

"Wud  you  like  to  kno'  what  a  man  sees,  an'  how 
he  feels  arter  he's  dead,  boss?" 

"Would  1?"  I  gave  the  old  man  another  dose  of  the 
heaven-brewed  to  help  him  along. 

"Wai,  hit's  about  de  cu'isest  feelin'  dat  ever  wus 
felt,"  he  said,  after  a  while,  "One  minnit  you  am 
livin'  an*  de  nex'  you  am  travlin'  'long  de  road  to  Jur- 
dan,  an'  you  can't  he'p  yo'se'f  to  save  yo'  life.  You 
can't  stop,  you  can't  set  down,  you  can't  turn  back. 
You  jes'  seem  to  be  drawed  along  lak  you  wus  standin' 
on  er  slidin'  sidewalk  run  on  undergroun'  cables.  But 
de  road  is  buterful.  Flowers  bloom  all  erroun'  you. 
Birds  sing  in  de  sunshine  on  gold  trees,  an'  fishes  swim 
in  lakes  uv  melted  di'monds.  Inste'd  uv  bein'  outdoors 
an'  breathin'  air,  you  'peer  to  be  movin'  erlong  under  de 
bright  roof  uv  er  cut-glass  house,  or  in  er  big  bottle  uv 
rarerfied  perfume,  wid  de  sun  er  blazin'  stopper  in  de  roof. 

"I  didn't  know  whar  I  was  gwine  to,  an'  I  didn't 
keer — all  I  know  wus  I  wus  gwine,  thank  Gord ! 

"  But,  bimeby,  everything  stop  whar  two  roads  met, 
an'  I  know'd  one  of  'em  went  to  heab'n,  but  I  c'u'dn't 
say  which  one  to  save  my  life,  I  got  down  on  my  knees 
an'  prayed  fur  light,  but  no  light  cum,  an'  'stid  uv  it  I 
heurd  all  de  little  birds  singin'  in  de  gold  trees  all 
aroun'  me: 

"  '  If  you  f oiler  the  road  of  sorrer  an'  sin, 

An'  don't  pray  fur  light  in  de  wurl'  you  am  in, 

No  use  fur  to  pray  in  de  nex'.' 


104  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"Dat  mos'  par'lyze  me,  boss,  an'  I'd  a  gi'n  anything 
ef  I  hadn't  spent  so  much  time  aroun'  race-tracks  whilst 
I  wus  alive  an'  had  spent  mo'  uv  it  lookin'  for  dis  heah 
track,  an'  tryin'  to  fin'  out  which  road  to  take.  Dar 
dey  bofe  lay,  jes'  erlak,  shinin'  in  de  glow  uv  eternity. 
An'  yit  de  very  silence  seem  ter  speak  in  thunder  tones, 
an'  de  stillness  wus  louder  dan  de  noise  uv  battle. 
It  all  depended  on  de  path  I  tuck. 

"  Bimeby,  I  thort  uv  Ole  Marster's  little  boy  dat  I 
seed  die  so  long  ago,  an'  dat  I  useter  nuss  an'  carry  in 
my  arms,  an'  uv  all  de  little  chillun  I  seed  bohn  one  day, 
an'  die  de  nex',  an'  I  got  down  on  my  knees  in  de 
golden  dust  uv  dat  'ar  road  an'  I  look  fur  ter  see  ef  dar 
wus  eny  baby  tracks  dar,  fur  I  knowed  whar  de  baby 
tracks  wus,  dat  was  de  road  dat  leads  to  heab'n." 

The  old  man  stopped,  and  I  saw  him  brush  away  a 
tear.  He  had  said  something  as  great  as  Shakespeare's 
and  I,  myself,  had  to  take  a  turn  around  the  room  to 
stop  before  the  picture  of  a  little  curly-head  over  the 
mantel,  and  listen  again  for  the  prattle  of  a  laughter 
which  began  one  spring  with  a  bird's  note  and  ended 
with  the  first  snow  in  a  new-made  grave. 

When  I  came  back  the  old  man  was  laughing.  Tears 
— smiles — twins  that  dwell  in  the  secret  chambers  of 
the  heart,  and  they  join  hands  so  quickly  at  times ! 

"  Bimeby,"  he  went  on,  "  I  look  up  de  road,  an'  heah 
cum  ole  Kunnel  Ketchun  er-splittin'  de  dust  uv  de 
golden  road,  en  er-moppin'  his  old  bald  head  wid  er  red 
bandanna  handkerchief,  an'  er-lookin'  es  pi'ius  in  death 
es  he  wus  sancterfied  in  life.  Now  boss,  you  kno'  de 
Kunnel  wus  one  uv  des  here  prayin'  lawyers — dat  you 


RESURRECTION  OF  WASHINGTON      105 

kin  always  safely  brand  es  de  Devil's  Own — an'  he  died 
jes'  'fo'  I  did,  an'  he  wus  awful  smart  an'  awful  slick, 
an'  whilst  I  didn't  have  much  idee  he  knowed  eny  mo* 
'bout  de  road  to  heab'n  dan  I  did,  I  wus  bankin'  on 
his  'biiity  to  find  it  out  fust.  Marse  John,  lemme 
tell  you  sump'in  to  paste  allers  in  yo'  hat:  never  trust 
er  prayin'  lawyer  or  er  tradin  preacher — never. 

"  'Hello,  Wash/  sezee,  'which  way  yo  gwine?' 

"Sez  I:  'Runnel  I's  cogertatin'  on  which  uv  dese 
heah  roads  leads  to  heab'n. 

"  'Oh',  sez  he,  'I  kin  show  you  which  road  ter  take. 
I  dun  bin  up  dar  an'  file  my  brief  wid  Jedge  Peter  at  de 
gate,  but  dar  wus  some  leetle  irregularerties  in  de 
pleadin's,  an'  I's  come  back  to  answer  his  demur/ 

"Den  he  laugh  an'  say:  'Wash,  de  ole  feller  don't 
kno'  a  little  bit  uv  law,  an'  hit's  de  easiest  thing  in  de 
wuiT  to  wuck  him  ef  you  only  do  es  I  say.  Now,  when 
I  went  up  and  presented  him  my  church  papers,  an* 
tole  him  who  I  wus,  deac'n  an'  all  dat,  he  'lowed  he 
nurver  had  1'arned  to  read  English  an'  he  throwed  my 
papers  over  er  blufT,  whar  I  seed  some  smoke  risin'  an' 
swellin'  sorter  like  de  smoke  uv  er  passin'  freight  engine, 
an'  den  he  look  at  me  an'  ax  ef  I  wus  ridin'  or  walkin'? 
Sez  I,  'Sir,  I  am  walkin'.'  'Dat  settles  it/  sez 
he,  "nobody  erfoot  will  ever  git  in  dis  gait,  an'  es  fur 
dat  artomobeel  crowd,'  sez  he,  'dey  go  on  to  hell 
widout  sioppin',  fur  dey  carry  de  scent  of  hell  erlong 
wid  'em,  enyhow.  'No,  sah,  Kunnel,'  sez  he,  'you 
gotter  ride  er  hoss  to  git  into  heah.  We  need  'em  to 
pull  de  cherriots  in  heab'n'  '  —an'  de  Kunnel  look 
wise  an'  stroke  his  chin  whiskers. 


io6  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"  'Now,  Wash/  he  went  on,  soft-lak,  Ts  got  er 
plan,  my  color'd  frien',  dat'll  fix  ole  Peter  an'  let  us 
bofe  in.  I  kno'  de  road — I's  bin  dar  befo',  so  you 
be  de  hoss  an'  I'll  be  de  rider,  an'  Peter  will  throw  open 
de  gate,  an'  let  us  bofe  in.  Dey's  nuffin'  lak  er  leetle 
brains,  Wash — er  leetle  brains  in  dis  wurl'  an'  de  nexV 

"Wai,  boss,  dat  all  look  mighty  conniv'rous  ter  me, 
an'  es  I  had  been  all  my  life  er-totin'  de  burdens  uv  de 
white  man,  it  'peered  mighty  nachul  to  keep  it  up. 
So  I  got  down  on  my  all-fo's,  de  Runnel  he  mounted 
me,  an'  I  started  up  de  pike  in  er  jog  trot.  But  I 
hadn't  gone  fur  befo'  de  ole  Runnel  punch  me  in  de 
side  wid  his  heels,  yanked  my  mouf  nearly  off  wid  de 
gallus  bridle  an'  de  shoestring  bit  he  fixed  up  fur  me 
befo'  he  started,  an'  yelled  out: 

"  'Change  dat  gait,  you  ole  fool;  do  you  think  I 
would  ride  into  heab'n  on  er  trottin'  hoss  when  I  c'u'd 
ride  er  easy  pacer?' 

"I  seed  de  p'int,  an'  shifted. 

"  'Ah,  dat's  better,'  sez  he,  'an'  mo'  restful/ 

"  'At  de  gate  Marse  Peter  stop  us,  an'  say:  'Am 
you  ridin'  or  walkin',  sah?' 

"  'Ridin'  dis  time,  yo'  Honoh/  say  de  Runnel. 

"  'Good/  sez  Peter,  er-glancin'  at  me,  'but  I  don't 
lak  de  looks  uv  dat  sway-backs  scrub  you're  ridin',  so 
I'll  jes'  let  you  hitch  'im  to  de  fence,  but  you  kin  walk 
in!' 

"An'  de  ole  Runnel,  he  hitch  me  to  de  fence  sho' 
'nuff,  an'  walked  in  widout  battin'  his  eye  or  sayin' 
much  obleged,  an'  dar  I  wus  champin'  er  shoestring 
bit,  tied  to  de  fence  uv  heab'n,  wid  er  gallus  line,  an' 


RESURRECTION  OF  WASHINGTON       107 

dodgin'  er  hoss-fly  es  big  es  er  turkey  gobbler  dat  wus 
buzzin'  aroun'  over  de  bluff  nigh  by. 

"Peter  look  at  me  er  long  time,  sorter  smilin'  an' 
sorter  mad,  an'  den  he  sez:  'Thort  you'd  fool  me,  did 
you?  Wai,  for  dis  decepshun,  I'll  turn  you  into  er 
sho'  'nuff  hoss/  and  befo'  I  c'u'd  say  scat,  boss,  I  wus 
er  black  Hal  pacer,  wid  two  white  feet,  a  star,  snip, 
black  mane  and  tail,  so  help  me  Gord,  an'  dat  'ar  hoss- 
fly  es  big  es  er  turkey  was  buzzin'  aroun'  tryin'  to  bore 
er  hole  in  me. 

"Gimme  ernurver  dram,  Marse  John." 

I  thought  he  was  entitled  to  it. 

"But  dat  wa'n't  all.  F'um  dat  day  on  dey  didn't 
do  nuffm'  but  use  me  on  dat  road,  carryin'  folks  up  to 
de  gate,  but  nurver  gittin'  in  myse'f.  An'  dey  wucked 
me  'twell  I  almos'  drapped  dead  ag'in.  An'  I  carried 
Jews  an'  Turks  an'  Chinese,  an'  ever'  kind  uv  man 
dat  ever  lived,  'twell  de  golden  pike  wus  er  pile  uv 
brass,  an'  de  sun  was  er  furnace  uv  fiah,  an'  me  de  hoss 
er-doin'  all  de  totin.' 

"An'  ever  day  ole  Peter  'u'd  lead  me  to  de  bluff  an' 
let  me  look  over  on  de  pit  down  below.  An'  dar  I 
seed  folks  I  nurver  dreamed  'u'd  be  dar,  in  dis  wurl', 
an'  I  failed  ter  see  udders  dat  I  thort  'u'd  be  dar  on  de 
hottes'  gridiron.  Dar  wus  heathens  er-wonderin'  what 
it  all  meant,  an'  Christians  still  'sputin'  on  baptism  an 
sancterfercashun,  an'  ever'one  uv  'em,  boss,  er-holdin'  er 
fat  Afercan  heathen  'twixt  him  an'  de  fiah.  Greeks, 
Turks,  niggers,  Jews,  Spanyards — all  dar,  boss.  Dar 
wus  doctors,  still  er-lyin'  an'  lookin*  wise,  an'  when  de 
yudders  called  fur  water  de  devil  had  'em  to  dose  'em 


io8  "UNCLE  WASH" 

wid  quinine  an'  calermel,  or  cut  open  de  reel  bad  men 
huntin'  fur  de  'pendix.  Lawyers?  Boss,  ef  hell  only 
had  er  bookcase  an'  er  dirty  carpet,  cuspedores  an'  er 
sweatin'  lot  uv  bad-smellin'  jurors,  you'd  er-thort  it  wus 
some  ord'nary  co'tehouse  wid  er  fiah  attachment.  In 
one  corner  dey  had  penned  off  er  lot  uv  ole  wimmens, 
all  talkin'  an'  argyin'  at  onct,  an'  I  ax  Peter  whut  dey 
wus,  an'  he  sed  dey  wus  de  muthers  uv  de  wives  uv 
men,  an'  dey  had  to  be  penned  off  dar  ter  keep  'em 
frum  runnin'  de  place  an'  bossin'  it  deyselves. 

"Dey  wus  all  dar,  boss — all  but  de  babies,  as  I  wus 
tellin'  you.  Nurver  did  I  heah  de  wail  uv  er  little  one 
come  up  fum  de  pit,  nur  de  lispuv  er  lullerby  turned  into 
moan.  Fur  de  sweetes'  Nurse  dat  ever  er  baby  had, 
had  sed,  whilst  He  was  on  earth,  'De  little  chillun  I'll 
take  keer  uv  dem' — an'  dey  had  all  gone  to  Him. 

"Day  arter  day  I  seed  dis;  day  arter  day  I  carried 
nations  on  my  back  from  de  partin'  uv  de  two  ways 
to  de  gate  whar  Peter  stood,  'twell  I  prayed  to  die 
ag'in. 

"An'  one  day,  when  I  thort  I  c'u'dn't  stan'  it  no 
longer,  dar  come  along  er  smilin',  quiet  man,  wid  er 
kind  look  in  his  eyes.  An'  dey  tole  him  to  mount  me 
an'  ride  up  to  de  hill.  But  he  looked  me  all  over,  my 
puffed  legs  an'  sore  feet  an'  sweat-caked  sides  an' 
drawn  flank,  an'  he  said;  'No— no— I  wouldn't  ride 
into  heab'n  on  the  miz'ry  uv  er  dumb  beast.' 

"An'  he  fotch  me  some  water  to  squench  my  thirst, 
an'  he  tuck  off  de  saddle  an'  bathe  my  back,  an'  he  led 
me  slowly  up  de  hill.  An'  when  we  come  to  de  gate, 
Peter  looked  at  'im  pow'ful  'stonished,  an'  sed: 


RESURRECTION  OF  WASHINGTON      109 

"  'Who  am  you,  sah,  dat  w'u'd  choose  ter  walk  ter 
heab'n  when  you  mout  ride?' 

"An'  den  de  man  look  at  'im  quiet-lak,  an'  say, 
'I  am  nufifin'  heah,  my  Lord,  an'  it  matters 
not  what  my  name  is.  Call  me  one  dat  had 
no  creed,  an'  harmed  no  man,  an'  luved  all 
things,  Lord,  yea,  even  de  beasts  uv  de  fiel's  an* 
de  birds  uv  de  air  an'  de  wurm  dat  creepeth. 
An'  so  lovin'  dem,  I  would  not  ride  even  to  heab'n's 
gate  on  de  miz'ry  uv  eny  beast  that  Gord  has 
made.' 

"And  den  dar  cum  er  burst  uv  music  de  lak  uv  which 
no  man  ever  heurd  befo',  an'  a  buterful  gate  on  a  river 
I  nurver  seed  befo'  was  flung  wide  open,  an'  er  voice  sed: 
'Righteousness  an'  truth  have  met  toguther.  What 
soever  you  did  unto  one  uv  dese  you  do  it  also  unto 
me/ 

"An'  Peter  waved  his  han'  an'  de  man  was  clothed 
in  white  an'  light,  an'  went  in  de  glory  gate — de  onlies' 
one  uv  dem  all  dat  went  in,  an'  I  seed  dat  yudder  gate 
dat  ole  Kunnel  Ketchum  an'  all  went  in  wusn't  heab'n 
at  all,  but  just  a  side  entrance  to  hell — an'  es  he  went 
in  he  waves  his  han'  at  me  an'  sed;  'Go  back  ag'in  to 
earth  an'  learn  to  luve  all  things  dat  Gord  has  made, 
an'  yo'  nabur  as  yo'se'f ,  an'  befo'  I  knowed  it  I 
stood  in  my  grave  clothes  in  de  woods  uv  Bigby, 
lookin'  fust  at  de  grave  at  my  feet  an'  den  at  de  skies 
above  me,  an'  wonderin'  what  had  happen  sense  I 
died." 

The  queer  turn  the  old  man  gave  to  his  story  set  me 
to  thinking,  and  the  hidden  lesson  touched  me  so 


no  "UNCLE  WASH" 

greatly  I  could  not  reply.    To  throw  off  its  wierdness, 

I  finally  said: 

"Well,  what  had  become  of  the  widow?" 
"  I  tole  you  I  wus  dead  nigh  six  weeks.     My  wife, 

she'd  marri'd  ag'in,  thank  God,  whilst  I  wus  dead!" 


HOW  UNCLE  WASH  CAPTURED  A  BUCK 

UNCLL  WASH  was  brought  up  in  the  days  when 
game  was  plentiful  and  he  early  imbibed  the  love 
of  the  chase,  following  old  "Marster"  and  the  hounds. 
Even  in  old  age  these  instincts  cling  to  him,  and  at  the 
first  konk  of  the  Christmas  wild  goose,  or  the  whistle 
of  the  blue  teal,  he  is  ready  to  follow  me  on  the  river  or 
in  the  field.  On  the  river  he  is  a  pretty  good  paddler, 
but  keeps  in  the  bottom  of  the  boat  a  percussion-cap 
musket — of  the  the  G.  D.  cap  persuasion — that  shoots 
anywhere  from  four  drams  to  a  handful  of  powder, 
and  has  been  known  to  kill  blue  teal  so  far  up  the  river 
(and  that,  too,  after  my  Parker  had  done  its  best) 
that  I  have  sat  in  the  boat  in  chagrin  and  amazement. 
He  has  often  told  me  he  has  killed  ducks  so  far  off 
they  were  dead  before  they  heard  the  report  of  the 
gun!  I  have  had  some  great  hunts  with  the  old  man, 
but  of  late  he  is  getting  old  and  I  have  not  encouraged 
him  to  take  risk  on  the  river.  I  am  not  sorry;  for  as  he 
grows  older,  the  spirit  of  his  African  pot-hunting 
ancestry  is  ever  uppermost  in  his  nature,  and  in  spite 
of  all  I  say,  he  does  not  hesitate  "for  his  stomach's 
sake,"  as  he  terms  it,  to  fire  into  a  covey  of  roosting 
quail  or  build  a  dead-fall  for  the  unsuspecting  rabbit. 

Therefore  I  am  not  sorry  to  relate  his  latest  mis 
fortune. 

I  had  missed  him  for  several  weeks  but  the  other 
darkies  had  told  me  he  was  on  his  annual  foot-washing 

(ill) 


ii2  "UNCLE  WASH" 

tour  in  the  barrens  of  Hickman  County.  Here,  out  in 
the  woods,  is  a  church  of  the  faithful — old  Hardshell 
Baptists — in  which  Uncle  Wash,  besides  being  Chief 
Priest,  is  also  the  "  High  Exalted  Steward  of  the  Towel, " 
and  attends  to  the  job  of  seeing  that  the  feet  of  the 
"bredderin'  and  sisterin'"  are  properly  dried  after 
ablution. 

I  was  not  surpr  sed,  therefore,  to  find  him  not  only 
in  bed  but  swathed  in  bandages  dipped  in  "dat  new 
kind  uv  medicine  dat  makes  you  a  new  skin,  an'  Gord 
knows  I  need  it, "  he  groaned. 

"No,  no,  Marse  John,  de  meetin'  wus  all  right. 
Dis  wuzn't  no  fight,  no  'lection  fur  deacon  dat  wusted 
me.  No,  no;  niggers  cum  forty  miles  to  git  ole- 
fashion  religin'  an'  dey  feet  washed.  Fs  allers  sed 
our'ns  de  only  korrect  creed  in  de  wurl',  kase  it  makes 
de  members  wash  dey  feet  at  least  onct  er  year  an 
dat  am  mo'  dan  is  in  de  Confession  uv  Faith  uv  sum 
uv  de  yudders. 

"Yas,  sah,  I  went  down  dar  in  de  barrens  whar  I 
use  ter  hunt  deer  wid  ole  Marster,  an'  I  puts  up  wid 
Sis'  Tilly  at  Goose  Neck  Holler.  She  is  de  main  prop 
uv  de  church  dar,  an'  she  raises  de  bes'  bran'  uv  yaller 
laigs  in  dem  parts.  About  de  thu'd  mawnin',  in  de 
cool  an'  crisp  uv  dem  hills  de  huntin'  fever  struck  me. 
Dar  cum  er  little  haze  on  de  hills  at  night,  sorter  misty 
and  sorter  still,  dat  set  me  to  thinkin'  uv  de  ole  hunts 
I  use  ter  have  wid  ole  Marster  down  dar.  Ever'  day, 
gwine  to  meetin',  I'd  see  squir'ls  in  de  trees  an'  patter- 
ges  runnin'  'cross  de  road,  an'  I  knowed  dat  wa'n't  all, 
dat  dem  barrens  wus  jes  filled  wid  deer.  To  make  it 


UNCLE  WASH  CAPTURED  A  BUCK   113 

wuss,  Sis'  Tilly  told  me  'bout  er  pow'ful  fine  buck  she'd 
seed  time  an'  erg'in  cum  right  up  to  de  cornfield  in  de 
clearin';  an'  dat  day  when  I  called  up  de  mo'ners  at 
church  my  body  wus  dar  but  my  sperit  wus  on  de  deer 
stand  down  on  Swan  Creek.  I  cudn't  sleep  at  night  fur 
thinkin'  uv  dat  buck  an'  I  cudn't  pray  in  meetin'  widout 
usin'  sech  expressions  es  de  hart  dat  panteth  fur  de 
water  brooks. 

"I  had  de  huntin'  fever  bad.  And  like  ever'body 
frum  Jonah  to  Jehosefat  dat  deserted  de  Lawd's  cause 
fur  de  flesh  pots  uv  Egpyt,  I  got  it  in  de  neck — or  ruther 
de  back, "  he  said,  mournfully  as  he  tried  to  turn  over 
in  bed. 

"You  can  fiddle  to  de  Lawd  but  you  can't  fool  Him, 
Marse  John. 

"One  mawnin'  jes'  es  day  wus  breakin'  I  riz  up,  es 
wus  my  custom,  an'  went  out  in  de  thicket  uv  er  near 
by  hill  fur  my  mawnin'  devoshuns.  I  allers  do  dis 
befo'  breakfus'  on  er  empty  stomach  kase  dar  is  nothin' 
lak  er  empty  stomach  to  keep  er  man  spir'chul  an' 
nuthin'  likeer  full  'un  to  keep  'im  devilish.  I's  allers 
sed  that  hell  wus  er  place  whar  dey  make  er  man  eat 
breakfus'  food  all  day  long  and  drink  sody  water  at 
night. 

"Wai,  sah,  up  de  hill  I  crep'  fur  de  bushes.  I  allers 
prayed  behin'  er  ole  log  way  up  de  hill  side  an'  daylight 
cotched  me  er-kneelin'  down  by  dat  log  ready  to  put 
up  sump'n  worth  while  to  de  throne  uv  grace,  dressed 
in  my  preachin'  clo's. 

"But  jes'  es  I  crep'  up  an*  knelt,  I  heerd  sump'n 
sorter  sigh,  like  a  tired  gal  in  her  sleep,  jes  over  de 


H4  "UNCLE  WASH" 

yudder  side  uv  de  log,  an'  my  heart  stood  still  fur  er 
minit.  I  peeped  over  de  log  an'  I  mighty  nigh  drapt 
dead  sho'  'miff,  fur  dar  wus  er  pair  uv  fine  horns  wid 
five  prongs  stickin'  over  de  top  uv  de  log  an'  dey  wus 
hooked  on  to  de  head  end  uv  de  bigges'  buck  in  Hick- 
man  County.  Sum  hunter  an'  hounds  had  gin  him  er 
tumble  chase  de  day  befo'  tur  he  cerried  mud  on  his 
belly  an'  sides,  an'  es  I  peeped  over  wid  my  heart  in 
my  throat,  I  seed  him  wiggle  his  year  so  happy  lak 
an'  sigh  agin,  one  uv  dem  long,  happy-gal  sighs,  layin' 
up  dar  so  safe  on  de  sunny  side  uv  dat  log  in  de  woods. 

"Es  I  peeped  I  sed  to  myse'f,  'Lawd,  de  righ'chus 
am  nurver  forsaken,  nur  do  his  chillun  have  to  beg  fur 
venison  steak.  Prayer  will  keep,  O  Lawd,  bein'  only 
wind  an'  repentunce  an'  needin'  neither  pepper  nur 
salt;  but  dat  buck  won't,  an'  is  liabul  eny  minnit  to 
start  fur  parts  unknown/  ' 

The  old  man  looked  out  of  the  window  and  groaned. 
It  was  some  time  before  he  spoke  again.  At  last 
earnestly:  "Ain't  it  strange  dat  'sperement  an'  'sper'- 
ence  am  de  only  teachers  fur  er  nach'ul  bawn  fool? 
An'  dars  whar  I  tumbled  into  de  net  uv  de  Philistines 
sot  by  de  han'  uv  de  devil  hisse'f.  Marse  John," 
whispering  it  earnestly,  "dat  wan't  no  buck — hit  wus 
de  devil — hit  wus  de  ole  man  hisse'f,  dat  had  'sumed  de 
form  bes'  calculated  to  rope  me  in.  You  know  he 
c'n  take  eny  form  he  wants  to,  'cordin'  to  de  gen'l'm'n 
he's  arter.  Sometimes  he's  er  race  hoss,  sometimes 
he's  er  soldier,  sometimes  he's  er  'oman,  sometimes, 
fur  er  cheap  nigger,  he's  er  fat  shote  er  er  yaller  laig 
chicken.  But  dat  mawnin'  he  sized  me  up  oncommon- 


UNCLE  WASH  CAPTURED  A  BUCK      115 

ly  handy  an'  make  me  backslide  in  de  only  form  dat 
cu'd  er  got  me — er  venison  steak  fur  er  empty  stomach! 

"Wal,  wal,  de  profits  fell  befo'  me  on  less'n  dat. 
Dat  buck  wus  sho'  mo'  temptin'  dan  Esau's  mess  uv 
pot-licker  an'  b'iled  greens  an'  looked  gooder  to  me  dan 
Jonah's  whale  er  Samson's  Jew-gal. 

"I  cooned  it  on  all  fours  back  to  de  cabin.  Sis' 
Tilly  wus  up  gittin'  breakfus'. 

"  'Sis'  Tilly!'  sez  I,  'gimme  dat  plow  line  up  dar  on 
de  peg,  quick!' 

'Whut's  de  matter?'  sez  she,  'I  thought  you  wus 
up  in  de  bushes  er-wrastlin'  wid  de  angel  in  prayer.' 

'De  Lawd  dun  told  me  to  wrastle  wid  sump'in' 
else/  sez  I,  'so  gimme  dat  plow  line  quick  ef  you  want 
enufT  meat  to  last  all  winter.' 

"An'  I  lit  out.  But  bein'  er  'oman  she  nachully 
guessed  jes  whut  it  wusn't,  an'  I  heerd  her  call  out  at 
me: 

'  Brer  Washin'tun,  don't  you  ketch  dat  hawg  dis 
time  ef  he  ain't  got  a  crop  on  one  year  an'  a  swaller- 
fork  in  de  yudder.  You  mout  git  into  trouble.' 

"Some  fool  folks  nurver  furgits  er  man's  mischeevious 
habits  uv  his  youth. 

"Up  de  hill  I  crep'  on  cat-toes,  but  still  dat  fool 
'oman  kep'  on  er-talkin' — her  voice  up  dat  holler  sound 
like  er  kalliope  an'  I  wus  sho'  sh'd  wake  dat  buck. " 

"  'Don't  ketch  dat  hawg,  Brer  Washin'tun,  I  tell 
you,  tell  de  sun  goes  down.  Lawd/  ef  he  ain't  crazy  T 

"As  I  crep'  along  I  made  two  good  slip  nooses  in  dat 
rope.  One  I  slips  over  my  head  an'  'roun  my  middle, 
and  de  yudder — wal,  jes  wait." 


n6  "UNCLE  WASH" 

He  was  sitting  up  in  bed,  his  eyes  gleaming  and  I, 
with  mouth  open,  was  hastening  him  on.  A  sigh: 
"  Jes'  wait,  I  say,  Marse  John — I  thought  I  wus  er-ket- 
chin'  er  buck,  but  I  caught  de  devil. 

"Up,  up,  I  crawls — no  cat  wus  ever  mo'  slyer. 
My  heart  kep'  goin'  ihumpety — thump  and  choke  me  so 
I  hatter  stop  an'  breathe  through  my  mouth.  Up — up 
I  slips,  crawlin'  right  on  my  stomach,  right  up  behin' 
de  log.  I  raised  my  head  er  little,  an'  thank  Gawd,  dar 
riz  dem  horns  jes  'bove  de  log  lak  de  fingers  uv  Faith 
er-pintin'  to  de  better  Ian'.  Thank  Gord,  he  wus  still 
er-dreamin'  uv  his  lady-luv  an'  er-sighin'  to  de  spirit  uv 
de  mornin'  stars.  He  wus  sleepin'  es  sound  es  er  houn' 
puppy  on  de  door  mat  in  de  sun,  arter  er  breakfas'  uv 
raw  beef  liver,  pot-licker  an'  bread,  an'  er-snoozin'  lak 
er  half  grown  boy  at  midnight  arter  er  hard  day's 
plowin'  in  new  groun'.  I  slip  my  han'  over  gently— 
slowly,  my  heart  beatin'  lak  er  kittle  drum  an'  makin 
sich  er  noise,  I  felt  sho'  he  heerd  it,  an'  den,  wid  er  little 
thrust,  I  dropped  de  noose  over  dem  five  prongs- 
down — down !  I  seed  it  settle  over  his  head.  I  gin 
er  lightin'  jerk,  jumped  up,  bracin  bofe  foots  agin*  de 
log  an'  as  I  heerd  dat  de  secret  uv  tamin'  wild  animuls 
wus  bein'  kind'an'  'swazive,  jes'  to  see  how  it  'ud  take  I 
whispered  sorter  smilin'  an  sorter  'swazive  in  his  year: 

"  'Cum,  buck,  you  is  my  pet!' 

"Gord,  Boss,  it  tuck.  He  riz  an'  I  riz.  But 
I  had  sich  a  foot-holt  an'  sich  er  toe-holt  an'  leg-holt 
I  felt  dat  whut  Gord  had  j'ined  together  no  man  eu'd 
put  asunder,  an'  it  made  me  so  happy  I  commence 
singin'  dat  good  ole  song: 


UNCLE  WASH  CAPTURED  A  BUCK   117 

"  'A  c-b-a-r-g-e  to  keep  I  l-a-v-e!' 

"My  Gord,  Marse  John,  how  often  er  man  gits  er 
dead  cinch  on  er  thing  he'd  lak  to  turn  er-loose!  In 
jes'  two  secon's  I  seed  dar  wus  mo'  fittin'  applecashun 
in  dat  ole  song  dan  I  had  ever  dreamed  uv.  I  nurver 
knowed  befo'  er  buck  cu'd  jump  from  er  nap  into  de 
nex'  wurl  an'  take  me  along  wid  'im.  I  seed  sump'in* 
go  up  in  de  air,  twixt  me  an'  de  sun,  twenty  feet  high 
an'  headed  fur  de  bottom  uv  dat  steep  hill.  I  felt  dat 
plow  line  sink  out  uv  sight,  three  inches  deep  in  my 
stomach,  par'lizin'  me  in  de  Tines  wid  er  grip  dat  sent 
er  pain  clur  th'oo  my  kidneys,  an'  leavin'  me  limp  es  er 
widder's  handkerchief  at  de  grave  of  her  thu'd  husban', 
an'  do'  I  thought  I  had  foot  holt  enuff  to  stop  er  steam 
injine  my  legs  give  away,  an'  somehow  it  jes'  seem  to 
me  entirely  ergreeable  to  go  'long  wid  dat  ar  buck. 
An'  yit  not  'zactly  wid  'im,  but  allers  'bout  erplow  line 
length  behin'  'im,  but  givin'  'im  er  close  race  fur  de 
bottom  uv  de  hill!  When  he'd  be  up  twenty  feet  in 
de  air  I'd  be  on  de  groun',  an'  when  he'd  be  twenty 
feet  down  dehill  I'd  be  takin'  er  little  fresh  air  up'mong 
de  lim's  uv  de  trees.  I  nurver  knowed  befo'  er  nigger 
cu'd  go  so  high  an'  ever  cum  back  to  earth  agin,  an" 
ever'  jump  he  made  I  lost  sum  uv  my  linen  on  de  lim's 
uv  de  trees  an'  you  cu'd  trail  me  throo'  de  trees  de  nex' 
day  whar  my  wool  an'  tattered  gyarments  wus  hung 
up  fur  birds'  nestis.  Dar  wus  only  one  difFunce  twixt 
dat  buck's  race  an'  mine  fur  de  bottom  uv  dat  hill; 
I  went  jes'  es  high  an'  jes'  es  fur  ever  jump  he  made, 
but  he  landed  right  side  up  on  his  fo'  feet  on  er  good 
spot  whilst  I  landed  on  eny  ole  part  uv  me  dat  happen 


n8  "UNCLE  WASH" 

to  be  nex'  to  de  yearth  at  de  time  uv  Ian  din*  an*  on 
any  ole  thing  from  er  stump  to  er  flint  bed.  It  look  lak 
I  hated  fur  'im  to  beat  me  an'  when  I  cu'dn't  go  fast 
enuff  th'oo'  de  air  I'd  break  my  gait  an'  roll  an'  tumble 
down. 

"Down  de  hill  we  cum,  crashin'  th'oo'  de  thickets; 
some  times  I'd  be  erhead  uv  buck  an'  sometimes  buck 
'ud  be  erhead  uv  me.  Es  we  cum  down  on  de  cabin 
under  de  hill,  buck,  lak  de  joyous  creature  he  wus, 
thought  it  bes'  to  go  over  de  top  uv  de  house  an'  es  it 
seem  lak  I  done  made  up  my  mind  nurver  to  let  'im 
git  fur  erhead  uv  me,  I  followed,  scapin'  off  shingles  an' 
knockin'  down  de  chimbley.  I  heerd  Sis'  Tilly  run  to 
de  do'  an'  look  up  'mazed  an'  delighted: 

'Glory,  hally-luyah,  Br'er  Washin'tun  iser-playin' 
Sandy  Claws  erg'in  an'  er'breakin'  in  er  reindeer.' 

"  'Cut  de  rope/  sez  I,  'cut  de  rope — fetch  de  ax, 
quick !' 

"Dat  make  her  nearly  die  laffin';  'ha-ha-^-nigger, 
'spile  all  dis  fun  an'  my  plow  line,  too?  No,  sah!'  she 
'spon'.  'Br'er  Washin'tun — you  sho'  have  got  'im.' 

"  'Bout  dat  time  I  hit  de  gravel  ag'in  an'  we  started 
fur  Swan  Creek  er  hund'ed  yards  erway.  But  de  nex' 
bump  I  hit  my  head  erg'in  er  stump  an'  it  sorter  brighten' 
me  uper  little.  I  felt  I  wuz  er-dyin'  an'  er-gwine  to  my 
death — an'  den  I  seed  jes'  whut  it  all  meant,  dat  I  had 
bin  sent  by  de  Lawd  on  de  hill-top  to  pray,  but  lak 
His  chillun  uv  ole  I'd  raced  arter  de  flesh  pots  uv 
Egypt.  Lak  Jonah,  I  wus  doin'  jes'  de  thing  He'd 
tole  me  to  let  erlone. 

"  I  wus  gwine  down  dat  hill  clipperty-clip-bang,  but 


UNCLE  WASH  CAPTURED  A  BUCK   119 

er  man  sees  de  pint  mighty  quick  in  er  tight  place  an'  I 
started  in  to  put  up  dat  prayer  I'd  neglected,  fur  I 
seed  it  wa'nt  gwineter  keep  no  longer  an'  dat  I  had 
failed  in  my  blindness  to  'terpret  de  meanin'  uv  de 
whole  thing  an'  stid  uv  dat  buck  layin'  so  peaceful  gin 
dat  log  bein'  intended  fur  er  burnt  sacrifice  fur  my 
stomach,  he  wus  jes'  de  ole  devil  hisse'f  dar  to  entice 
me  from  de  true  path. 

"  I  lak  ter  died  sho'  nuff  when  dis  dawned  on  me  an* 
dat  I  hilt  de  devil  hisse'f  an'  nuthin'  but  er  plow  line 
'twixt  him  an'  me.  But  thank  Gawd,  by  dis  time  he 
wus  sorter  winded  an'  now  an'  den  he'd  holler  out 
bab-bab,  sorter  mad  lak  ef  I  failed  to  cum  fas'  nuff,  an' 
es  I  went  er-rollin'  an'  er-tumblin'  down  dat  hill  heah 
is  de  prayer  Sis'  Tilly  say  she  heerd,  es  she  cum  to  her 
senses  at  last  an'  tuck  in  de  fix  I  wus  in : 

'O,  Lawd  (bab!  bumpety-bump!)  furgive  an'  have 
mercy!  (bab-bab!  bumperty-bump) .  Cut  dis  rope,  Oh 
Lawd,  an'  I'll  cut  fur  de  prayer  meetin'(bab!  wbiz~{ip!). 
I'll  pray  all  day,  O  Lawd  (bab  wbi^-tb-u-mp!  dam!  dat's 
er  stump!)  'Scuse  me,  O  Lawd!  Cut  dis  line  fur  I's 
tied  to  de  devil  an'  racin'  to  (wback-bab  dat's  er 
flint  pile!).  Cut  it  an'  I'll  nurver  go  back  on  you  erg'in 
so  he'p  me  Gord!  (Bumpty-bump  cr-a-sb).  Tarna- 
shun !  we've  butted  down  Sis'  Tilly's  bee  gum  an'  de 
pesky  things  hes  kivered  me  an'  buck,  too,  but  thank 
Gord  he's  headed  lak  P'inter  fer  deep  water.  Head 
us,  O  Lawd,  cut  dis  line  an'  I'll  go  back  to  preachin' 
an'  dis  ole  buck  c'n  go  to— 

"De  bees  had  sot  dat  buck  er-fiah  es  well  es  me  an* 
when  he  put  off  to  de  deep  hole  at  de  crick  not  fifty  foot 


120  "UNCLE  WASH" 

erway,  now  pullin'  me  'long  lak  er  sled,  I  tole  'im  he 
cu'dn't  git  into  water  too  quick  fur  me. 

"Ker-cbunk-bah,  he  hit  de  water.  'O  Lawd,'  sez 
I,  (blub-bl-u-b  bl-u-b)  an'  my  head  went  under  but  it 
wus  better'n  bees. 

"  I  heerd  Sis'  Tilly  er-screamin'  on  de  bank  an'  er- 
wavin'  er  ax  es  I  went  down.  Jes'  lak  er  fool  'oman, 
allers  too  late. 

"Up  we  cum  an'  I  seed  him  hit  de  yudder  bank  an' 
er-doin'  my  best  to  beat  him  to  it.  My  head  cum  up  at 
last  an'  I  wus  mad  es  er  hornet.  I  braced  myself  agin 
de  bank  an'  to  my  joy  I  seed  I'd  stopped  him.  Den  I 
wus  sorry — fur  back  he  turn',  stood  on  his  hin'  legs, 
sed  babl  babl  an'  butted  me  back  into  dat  crick, 
knockin'  me  senseless.  Gawd,  chile  I  tell  you  he  wus 
de  devil! 

"  But  still  I  felt  lak  I  wanted  to  go  wid  him,  dat  we 
wus  united  till  death  us  do  part,  an'  I  feel  myse'f 
bumperty-bumperty  over  de  groun'  an'  up  de  bank. 
Den  jes'  es  I  give  up  an'  shet  my  eyes  I  thought  dat 
Pisgah  had  fell  on  me  an'  I  seed  dat  buck  fling  up  his 
head  an'  fall  back  sprawlin'.  It  wus  Sis'  Tilly  an' 
her  half  ton  uv  sainted  Christyun  Faith.  She  sot  on 
my  chist  to  hold  me  down.  I  seed  de  buck  snort  and 
try  to  rise  but  he  wus  anchored  on  de  beach  lak  de 
whale  dat  swaller's  Jonah.  I  heerd  her  say,  'cum, 
reindeer,  you  kerryin'  dis  jun  too  fur1,  an'  down  cum 
her  ax  an'  I  went  to  sleep. 

"But  you  had  some  fine  venison  the  next  day," 
I  said  consolingly. 

The  old  man  groaned:  "Didn'  I  tell  you  dat  wa'nt 


UNCLE  WASH  CAPTURED  A  BUCK   121 

no  deer?  No,  sah,  I  wouldn'  te'ch  it — I  give  'im  to 
er  nigger  and  he  said  he  cooked  er  roast  two  days  an' 
it  give  out  little  blue  flames.  He  tried  to  eat  er  piece 
an'  de  more  he  chawed  it  the  bigger  it  got  an'  so  he 
throwed  the  whole  thing  in  the  crick  an'  it  made  the 
water  siz  for  er  mile  an'  er  ha'f.  T'wus  de  devil,  I 
tell  you,  but  you  cain't  teach  white  fo'ks  nuthin'. 
Who  but  de  devil  cu'd  fix  me  lak  dat?  I  started  frum 
de  top  uv  dat  hill  dressed  in  my  Prince  Albert  preachin' 
coat,  my  broadcloth  pants,  er  cellarlord  collar,  er  good 
pair  uv  shoes  an'  er  whole  skin,  an'  when  I  cum  to  I 
didn't  have  on  nuthin'  but  my  shoes.  O,  gimme  er 
drink,  Marse  John,  and  go  on  home!  You  cain't 
'splain  nuthin'  to  white  fo'ks.  'Sides  dat  de  ole  man 
wants  to  go  to  sleep!" 


THE  BALKING  MULE 

I  was  reading  to  Uncle  Wash  the  other  night,  a 
very  interesting  book — "Wild  Animals  I  Have 
Owned."  The  old  man  listened  and  said  that  it  was 
mostly  lies.  "Now  I  can't  write  er  book  on  WiP 
Animules  I  have  owned,  but  gwine  back  er  long  life  an' 
thinkin'  uv  all  its  correspondences,  both  comin'  an' 
gwine,  I  cu'd  write  er  good  size  vollyum  on  Wild 
Animules  Dat  Have  Owned  Me!  An'  de  fust  pair  uv 
dese  dat  I  rickollect  wus  my  fust  mother-in-law  an* 
er  balkin'  mule  named  Tommy  Pete.  I  menshuns  'em 
togedder  beca'se  I  got  possessed  uv  bofe  uv  'em  de 
same  year,  one  by  matrimony  an'  de  other  by  get- 
your-money,  fur  de  man  dat  put  off  Tommy  Pete  on  me 
sho'  got-my-money — 'en  fur  nothin'. 

"  Dis  pair  didn't  fit  nothin'  else  in  de  wurl  but  each 
other  an'  dar  dey  wus  dead  matches.  Dey  bofe  balked 
on  de  rest  uv  de  wurl  but  dey  nurver  balked  on  each 
yudder.  Tommy  Pete  wouldn't  pull  fer  me  er  plow 
line  tied  to  his  collar,  but  he  wus  allers  ready  to  take 
my  mother-in-law  to  de  meetin'  whar  he'd  spen'  de 
day  in  de  shade  uv  er  ellum  switchin'  flies  ofTen  de  face 
uv  annurr  mule  whilst  de  yudder  mule  turn'd  de  favor 
in  kind. 

"An*  my  mother-in-law  wus  jes'  es  satisfied  inside 
singin'  all  day  'bout  Zion,  de  happy  Ian'  an'  de  stream 
dat  flowed  thru  heab'n,  while  Dinah,  my  wife,  spent 
her  time  washin'  fur  de  fambly  by  de  stream  dat  flowed 


THE  BALKING  MULE  123 

thru  de  back  yard,  an'  I  spent  mine  ho'in'  cohn  when 
I  orter  been  plowin'  it. 

"Tommy  Pete  wus  bohn  balkin' — so  de  man  tole 
me  arter  I  traded.  He  sed  Tommy  Pete  nurver  did 
want  to  be  bohn. 

"De  fus'  time  he  balked  on  me  wus  on  er  'possum 
hunt  an'  jes'  when  I  had  de  bigges'  'possum  up  de 
leetles'  tree.  Befo'  I  cu'd  get  him  to  ondustan  by 
all  kinds  uv  moral  swashun  (de  last  argyment  bein' 
a  cedar  rail  wid  er  knot  in  it)  dat  'possum  meat  wus 
good  fur  man  to  eat,  de  'possum  got  erway. 

"  Frum  dat  time  on  he  went  into  er  steady  decline- 
chiefly  declinin'  to  wurk.  I  allers  thought  he  caught 
de  disease  frum  my  mother-in-law,  fur  lak  her,  he 
wan'  pertickler  whut  he  declined  ef  he  got  it  into  his 
head  dat  I  wanted  it  de  yudder  way.  Ef  I  wanted  to 
go  to  de  fiel,'  he  wanted  to  go  to  de  village  sto'  whar 
loafm'  niggers  wus.  Ef  I  wanted  to  ride  him  home, 
he  "wanted  me  to  walk.  Ef  I  wanted  him  to  go  to 
water,  he  wanted  to  waller,  an'  ef  I  wanted  to  wuck 
him,  law,  wal,  be  jes  wanted  ter  see  me  do  it! 

"Wai,  sah,  I  tried  ever'thing  on  him.  One  Sunday 
he  balked  at  church  arter  meetin'  wus  out  an'  I  had 
Dinah  in  de  wagon  an'  de  preacher  wus  gwine  to  go 
home  wid  us  an'  eat  our  yaller  laig. 

"Wal,  he  saved  us  de  yaller  laig  by  dat  balk.  Fur 
arter  I'd  lambasted  him  wid  ever'thing  I  cu'd  lay  my 
han's  on,  frum  er  hick'ry  stick  to  de  hitchin'  pos'  in  de 
front  uv  de  church,  an'  had  used  up  all  my  own  lan 
guage  an'  ha'f  uv  de  devil's,  de  preacher  he  say  very 
solemnly,  'Be  keerful  uvyour  remarks  in  de  -presence  uv 


i24  "UNCLE  WASH" 

dervinity,  Br'er  Washin'ton,  an'  let  me  try  moral  swashun 
on  Mm — Mi's  de  greates'  force  in  de  universe.' 

"All  right/'  says  I,  "Parson,  but  I'll  jes  tell  you 
to  stan'  in  his  front  ter  swade  him  fur  he's  'tickler  sot 
agin  moral  swashun  an'  when  it  comes  ter  kickin' 
he  can  kick  es  fur  in  front  as  behin'. 

1  'O  dat  ain't  it,'  sed  de  parson,  Ts  gwine  whisper 
er  few  consolin'  words  in  his  year,  de  p'int  bein'  to 
distract  his  attenshun  frum  hisse'f.  You  don't 
ondustran'erbalkin'  mule,  Br'er  Washin'ton — hit's  all 
de  result  uv  nervous  se'f  conshusness  an'  de  t'ing  is  to 
get  dey  thorts  ofTen  deyse'f.  Now  jes  watch  me/ 
an'  he  'proached  Tommy  Pete  wid  er  glad,  happy  smile, 
tuck  holt  uv  his  year  an'  'gun  to  whisper  somethin'  to 
him. 

"I  don't  know  whut  he  whispered  to  him,  Marse 
John,  but  it  muster  bin  de  mos'  tarnel  insult  dat  er  man 
ever  offered  to  er  mule,  an'  'fore  I  cu'd  tell  him  to  be 
keerful,  an'  dat  Tommy  Pete  wus  orful  'tickler  'bout 
who  whispered  in  his  years,  Tommy  Pete  tole  him. 
Fur  sudden-lak  he  flung  his  head  sideways,  butted  de 
parson  back'ards  an'  den  kicked  him  clear  over  de 
wagon  into  er  huckerberry  bush. 

"Wai,  sah,  we  poured  water  on  de  parson's  head  fur 
two  days  an'  he  laked  nurver  to  ciyn  to.  He  didn't 
kno'  nuffin.  When  I  thort  he  wus  sorter  cumin' 
'round,  I  sed: 

"Parson,  what  in  de  worl'  did  you  say  to  make  him  so 
mad? 

"  But  all  he  cu'd  do  wus  to  moan  in  his  sleep  lak  he 
wus  preachin'  er  sermon  an'  mumblin',  'An  'Moses 


THE  BALKING  MULE  125 

struck  de  rock  in  de  wilderness  an'  de  waiah  gushed 
forth!' 

"An'  when  he  cum  to  he  nurver  cu'd  'member  whut 
he  sed  dat  made  Tommy  Pete  so  mad. 

"  But  dar  wus  no  preachin'  in  Zion  fur  two  months, 
thank  Gord! 

"  'Wai,  sah,  dat  insultin'  remark  uv  de  preacher 
jes  seem  to  fix  'im  in  his  ways,  an'  he  looked  lak  he 
wanted  to  take  it  all  out  on  me.  But  when  my 
mother-in-law  died,  he  played  it  lowdown  on  me,  to 
beat  de  ban'.  I  'p'inted  him  chief  mourner,  'kase  dey 
nurver  had  been  separated  in  life  an'  I  wanted  'em 
togedder  in  death — an'  selected  him  es  chief  pall 
bearer  fur  to  carry  his  ole  frien'  to  de  grave.  Dis 
I  thought  he'd  do  wid  dat  same  pleasure  I'd  er  done 
myse'f,  fur  she  wus  er  good  'oman  in  spite  uv  her  ways. 
We  gin  de  ole  lady  er  fine  sen'-ofT.  We  hed  er  succession 
er  mile  long,  includin'  two  surreys,  er  rockaway  an'  er 
hayrake — six  niggers  bein'  perched  on  one  hayrake. 
Tommy  Pete  hauled  her  in  de  spring  wagon  two  miles 
erfore  it  got  into  his  head  dat  burryin'  de  ole  lady  wus 
jes  whut  I  wanted  him  to  do,  an'  den  he  balked  an'  we 
had  to  tote  her  five  miles  whilst  Tommy  Pete  stood 
by  de  roadside  an'  wept. 

"Law,  he  wus  dat  onnery! 

"Wai,  sah,  I  'civored  him  at  las',  leastwise  Marse 
Jim  did.  I  driv'  'im  to  town  one  day,  an'  Dinah  bein' 
busy  wid  de  week's  washin',  I  took  Sis  Tilly  'long  to 
see  ole  John  Roberson's  sho'. 

"I  calklated  Tommy  Pete  wanted  to  see  de  animules 
hisse'f  (I  allers  had  to  calklate  on  whether  it  suited 


126  "UNCLE  WASH" 

Tommy  Pete  or  not),  an'  dat  he'd  enjoy  de  cirkis 
'bout  es  well  es  we  did.  En  he  did.  I  hitched  him 
nigh  an'  he  nearly  laffed  his  fool  se'f  to  death  at  de 
trick  mule  an'  I  even  seed  'im  rubbin'  noses  wid  de 
elerfunt  es  much  es  to  say,  Wai,  ole  feller,  ef  I  bad  yo' 
bulk  I'd  be  er  balker  sbo'  'nuff!' 

"It  wus  late  when  de  sho'  turned  out  an'  I  thought 
sho'  Tommy  Pete'ud  go  home  in  er  hurry  to  keep  warm, 
after  havin'  sech  er  happy  day;  but  he  got  it  into  his 
head  dat  de  sho'  wus  got  up  jes  fur  his  spechul  benerfit 
an'  dat  he  orter  watch  de  elerfunt  an'  de  trick  mule  fur 
ever,  an'  he  balked  wid  us  jes  in  front  uv  de  drug  store, 
blockin'  de  main  street  uv  de  town. 

"It  wus  de  wuss  place  in  de  wurl  fur  him  to  sta'n 
fur  dar  wus  er  big  crowd  an'  hit's  one  uv  de  leetle  hap- 
its  uv  humanity  fur  ev'body  to  get  erroun'  er  balkin' 
hoss  or  mule  an'  tell  de  po'  hacked  devil  in  de  wagon 
whut  he  already  knows — dat  bit's  er  onnery  cuss  bes 
got  dar,  an'  wby  don't  you  make  bim  go  on? 

Now  er  balkin'  mule  is  es  ole  es  ole  Joseph  Potifur 
(an'  I  uster  heah  ole  Marster  laff  an'  say  dat  Joseph 
wus  de  fus'  balkin'  mule  uv  which  hist'ry  has  eny 
recud),  an'  though  dar  ain't  nurver  been  nothin' 
knowed  to  break  'em  uv  de  habit,  still  dar  am  fools  yet 
who  b'leeves  it  kin  be  done. 

"Dey  wus  soon  erroun'  me  tellin'  me  how.  Long 
sperience  wid  Tommy  Pete  had  tort  me  pashens,  which 
is  deonly  Christian  virtue  er  balkin'  mule  will  bring  in  de 
sheaves  to  you,  an'  knowin'  frum  long  sperience  dat  dese 
fools  must  each  have  his  say,  me  an'  Sis  Tilly  jes  folded 
our  han's  an'  waited  until  Tommy  Pete  finished  wid  'em. 


THE  BALKING  MULE  127 

"An*  dey  wus  all  soon  dar. 

"  De  fus'  man  tuck  er  piece  uv  scrap  iron  an'  pecked 
on  Tommy  Pete's  fo'  foot. 

"Den  Tommy  Pete  pecked  on  his'n  an'  de  doctor  he 
sed  afterwards  he  wus  mighty  proud  because  he  didn't 
have  ter  take  off  but  two  uv  de  man's  toes. 

"An'  me  and  Sis  Tilly  we  jes  sot  still. 

"  De  nex'  man  wus  jes  passin'  by  (dat's  one  uv  de  sho' 
signs  uv  er  dinged  fool,  dat  he  can't  pass  by  er  balkin' 
hoss  widout  stoppin'  to  tell  de  driver  how  to  make 
him  go),  an'  of  co'se  he  hed  to  stop  an'  try.  He  tuck 
'casion  to  tell  all  de  crowd  dat  he  were  frum  Bosting 
an'  dat  he  b'longed  to  de  Society  Fur  De  Prevenshun 
of  Hurtin'  De  Feelin's  uv  Things — 'an'  I's  gwin'ter 
sho'  you  good  people  right  now,'  sez  he,  'how  fur 
kindness  will  go  on  er  dumb  animule.'  He  patted 
Tommy  Pete  'fecshunately  on  de  nose,  an'  tuck  him 
by  de  bit  an'  sed:  'Now,  my  good  fellow,  don't  be  sore 
on  yo'  job — but  jes  move  out  an'  do  yo'  duty — now, 
do!'  But  me  an'  Sis  Tilly  we  sot  still,  an'  when  he  cum 
to  arter  grovelin'  roun'  on  de  groun'  an'  foamin'  at 
de  mouf  an'  sayin'  over  an'  over  ag'in,  'Liberty  an' 
union,  now  an'  forever,'  he  wus  er  whole  site  sorer  on 
his  job  den  Tommy  Pete  wus  on  his'n. 

"An'  me  and  Sis  Tilly  we  sot  still. 

"  I  tried  to  stop  de  man  dat  b'ilt  de  fiah  under  Tommy 
Pete,  fur  I  knowed  whut  ud  happen  an'  it  ud  jes  fetch 
on  mo'  wuck  fer  me.  But  I  acted  as  quick  as  I  cu'd 
an'  by  totin'  de  wagon  aroun'  sideways  an'  strainin' 
my  shoulder,  I  saved  it. 

"  Dis  made  me  b'ilin'  mad  an'  when  er  fool  nigger 


128  "UNCLE  WASH" 

cum  up  it  jes  dawned  on  him  whut  wus  up  an'  he  say, 
sorter  laughin'. 

'Why,  Uncle  Wash,  dat  ole  mule  won't  draw  will 
he?' 

"  'Yes,'  sez  I,  'he  sho'  does — he  draws  ever'  damn 
fool  in  ten  miles  of  him !' 

"Den  I  went  in  de  drug  sto'  an'  I  asked  Marse  Jim 
ef  he  didn't  have  somethin'  dat  'ud  move  dat  mule. 

"  I  seed  Marse  Jim  reachin'  fur  de  salts  bottle,  but 
when  I  'splained  to  him  dat  I  wanted  him  to  move  up 
de  road,  an'  dat  quick,  fur  it  wus  nigh  to  night  an' 
pow'ful  cold,  he  laughed  an'  sed  'sure,'  an'  reached  fur 
de  Gypsy  Juice.  He  cum  out  an'  sed  to  me:  'Now 
be  ready/  an'  he  stuck  er  leetle  syringe  under  Tommy 
Pete's  hide  an'  'jected  it. 

"  I  made  er  grab  fur  de  lines  but  I  wus  too  late.  I 
seed  Sis  Tilly  turn  out  back'ards  es  I  heurd  er  rumble 
an'  er  snort  an'  up  dat  street  went  Tommy  Pete, 
wagon  an'  all  beatin'  Star  P'inter's  time!  I  seed  him 
go  over  de  hill  to'ards  Hickman  County  an'  I  turned 
to  Marse  Jim  an'  I  sed: 

"  'Marse  Jim,  whut  wus  dat  worth?' 

"  'I  don't  charge  you  but  a  nickel,  Wash,'  he  sed, 
laughin'  'fit  to  kill. 

"  'Wai,  Marse  Jim;  se{  /,  'fur  Cord's  sake  jes  injec' 
ten  cents'  worth  into  me  fur  I's  now  got  to  ketch  de 
infurnel  ole  fool!' 

"But  I  didn't.  Nurver  heurd  of  him  ag'in,  an*  I's 
allers  hoped  he's  gone  to  jine  my  mother-in-law." 


HIS  LITTLE  PREACHER 

TTHE  other  day  I  was  whistling  that  coon  song: 
"  All  coons  look  alike  to  me. " 

The  old  man  was  poisoning  potato  bugs  on  our  second 
crop  of  Irish  potatoes.  It  was  getting  along  "to'd's  de 
shank  uv  de  evenin',"  as  I  had  heard  him  so  often 
express  it,  and  I  have  noticed  that  about  that  time 
the  old  man  is  always  hunting  for  some  excuse  to  stop 
working.  "  Dar  am  jes  two  sho'  nuff  fools  in  dis  wurl, " 
I  have  heard  him  say,  "one  am  de  man  dat  wucks  all  de 
time  an  de  yudder  am  de  'oman  dat  don't  wuck  at  all. " 

I  was  not  surprised,  then,  to  see  the  old  man  set 
down  his  can  of  Paris  green  and  water  and  give  vent 
to  a  prolonged  laugh.  I  have  learned  that  the  way  to 
catch  the  old  man  is  to  get  him  when  he  is  "fit  and 
ready" — the  same  as  a  horse  when  he  is  expected  to 
break  the  record — and  I  might  carry  it  further  and 
say  you  can't  always  tell  when  he  is  ready.  But  there 
are  certain  signs  you  can  go  by. 

And  so  the  old  man  has  signs,  too — that  he  is  ready 
to  go  a  heat  in  an  old  time  yarn — and  one  is  when  the 
sun  gets  low  and  the  bugs  high — when  a  watermelon 
is  waiting  in  the  spring  trough  and  the  sheep  on  the 
hill  begin  to  come  out  from  the  shaded  woods  for  their 
evening  meal  in  the  meadow — now  cooling  with  the 
condensing  shadows  of  a  setting  sun. 

9  (129) 


130  "UNCLE  WASH" 

The  sign  he  gives  is  a  furtive  glance  around  and  a 
big,  chuckling  laugh. 

I  had  cut  around  the  melon  with  my  pocket-knife, 
and  broken  it  open  on  a  big  rock,  which  left  the  jagged, 
juicy  heart  bulging  out  in  a  tempting  lump.  But 
I  divided  as  equally  as  I  could,  under  the  circumstances, 
and  as  we  sat  in  the  shade  of  the  elm  by  the  big  spring 
I  shoved  him  his  half  and  said: 

"Now  that's  for  what  you  were  laughing  at  just 
now — out  with  it." 

"  I  doan'  blame  white  folks  fur  sayin'  all  coons  look 
erlike,  fur  I  tried  it  onct  and  I  thou't  I  knowed  my 
own  kid — thou't  ef  it  cum  to  de  scratch  I  cu'd  do  lak 
er  hoss  an'  tell  'im  by  his  smell,  enyway.  But 
when  I  wus  put  to  de  test  I  foun'  dey  not  only  all 
look  alike,  but  smell  alike,  too — an*  dar's  whar  I 
cum  mighty  nigh  gittin'  into  de  wuss  scrape  I  ever  got 
into. 

"Way  back  in  slavery  time,  when  er  young  p'ar  uv 
niggers  'ud  marry,  de  rule  wus  dey  wus  to  live  wid  de 
gal's  muther  ontwel  de  fust  chile  was  bohn.  Ole  mar- 
ster  useter  la'f  an'  wink  an'  tell  me  it  wus  er  trick  uv  de 
white  folks  to  mek  'em  hurry  up  wid  de  fus'  chile! 
Jinerally  we  didn't  need  no  hurryin'  for  ole  Daddy 
Stork  is  mighty  kind  to  young  folks,  'spesh'ly  niggers, 
which  wus  p'uffectly  nat'ul,  you  know — rangin'  all  de 
way  in  his  visertachuns  frum  er  few  weeks  arter  de 
suremony  to  es  menny  months — fur  no  nigger  dat  had 
eny  manhood  an'  independence  wanted  to  be  pendin* 
on  his  wife's  mammy  eny  longer  den  he  cu'd  he'p  it! 
Den  arter  de  chile  wus  bohn  de  marster  'ud  give  er  log- 


HIS  LITTLE  PREACHER.  131 

rollin'  an'  er  house-buildin' — jinerally  oner  Sad'dy  arter 
de  crop  wus  laid  by — an'  all  de  niggers  frum  de  'joinin' 
farms  'ud  cum  over,  fetch  dey  wives  an'  babies, 
an*  whilst  de  men  cut  logs  an'  put  up  de  cabin,  de 
wimmen  and  gals  'ud  quilt  de  young  p'ar  er  quilt  or 
two  an'  cook  er  big  dinner  uv  gumbo  soup  and  greens 
An'  if  de  baby  dat  de  young  fo'ks  had  wus  er  boy  de 
rule  was  dat  Marster  had  to  fling  in  er  good  big  lam', 
es  er  kind  uver  free  gratis  prize  fur 'em  gittin'  er  boy,  an' 
den  Lord,  boss,  de  barbycue  an'  de  stew  we  did  have ! 
In  dem  days  eny  man  in  Tennessee  cu'd  'still  de  fruit 
uv  his  own  orchard  and  not  pay  no  rivernew,  an' 
Marster  had  er  nigger  named  Pete  Gallerway  dat  cu'd 
beat  de  wurl'  makin'  apple-brandy.  Every  fawl  he'd 
'still  Marster  twenty  gallons  an'  it  'ud  stay  in  de  cellar 
twell  de  naixt  fawl,  an'  Lord,  by  dat  time  it  wus  dat 
kind  uv  stuff  dat  ef  you  drunk  it  in  dis  wurl'  it  seem 
ter  kinder  tel'fone  to  de  angels  in  de  naixt!  It  wus 
so  ra'ar  an'  ripe  you  cu'd  jes'  put  de  stopper  outen  de 
bottle  in  yo'  bootlegs  an'  cudn't  keep  from  cuttin'  de 
pigeon-wing  to  save  yo'  life  an'  er  singin'  dat  song  we 
sung  den : 

"  'Cum    down    ter    Tennessee, 

(Ride    er    ole    gray    hoss.) 
Yaller    gal's    de    gal    fur    me, 

(Ride  er  ole  gray  hoss.) 
Kiss  her  under  de  Mulberry  tree, 

(Ride  er  ole  gray  hoss.) 
O  my,   nigger,   don't   you  see, 
Better   cum   ter  Tennessee!' 


132  'UNCLE  WASH" 

"  I  tell  you,  boss,  dey  kin  preach  all  dey  please  ergin 
good  licker  an'  de  famblys  it  busts  up,  but  I's  knowed 
menny  er  man  to  git  er  drink  jes  in  time  ter  keep  outen 
er  divorcement.  I  don't  see  how  sum  men  cu'd  live 
wid  de  wives  dey  got  ef  dey  cudn't  tak  er  drink  an' 
furgit  dey  miz'ry  now  an'  den!  Wai,  in  erbout  three 
moons  it  wus  my  time  to  have  er  house-buildin'  an'  I 
wus  mighty  proud  uv  de  job.  Dinah  wus  kinder 
dissociated  kase  she'd  sot  her  h'art  on  de  fus'  baby 
bein'  yaller.  Er  'oman,  uv  course,  ain't  got  no  reason 
fur  eny  thing — dey  jes'  goes  by  instinct,  I  reckin — 
an'  de  onlies'  reason  she  had  for  spectin'  an'  wantin' 
er  yaller  baby  wus  dat  she  was  allers  mighty  fond  uv 
sorrel  hosses  an'  she  natur'ly  hoped  her  fust  child  'ud 
be  er  sorrel.  It  cum  black,  of  course — jes'  lak  me, 
an'  arter  I  opened  his  mouth  an'  seed  he  hed  one  tooth 
already  cum  an'  ernudder  comin'  an'  wus  reddy  fur 
eatin'  de  fus'  day,  I  knowed  he  wus  Br'er  Washingtun 
up  ter  the  thu'd  an'  fo'th  jinerashun.  But  Dinah  she 
tuck  it  mighty  hard  an'  lowed  she'd  nurver  git  over 
he's  not  bein'  er  sorrel  wid  black  p'ints! 

"  I  say  he  wus  black,  but  did  yo  ever  see  er  right 
young  nigger?  A  buzzard,  you  kno',  is  hatched  white 
an'  turns  black,  an'  so  er  nigger  is  bohn  red  an'  turns 
black,  It's  funny  but  it's  so.  A  simon  p'wore  nigger 
when  bohn  is  red  wid  er  leetle  bunch  uv  wooly  h'ar  on 
his  head,  an'  five  holes  in  his  face,  de  two  leetle  ones 
in  de  center  being'  whar  his  nose  gwineter  be.  Dey 
ain't  no  mistakin'  his  mouth,  fur  dat's  de  bigges'  part 
uv  his  vizerbles,  an'  in  jineral  lang'widge  you  mout  say 
it  curls  up  on  de  north  an'  is  bounded  by  hes  h'ar,  an* 


HIS  LITTLE  PREACHER.  133 

curls  down  on  de  south  an'  is  bounded  by  his  belly-ban*. 
He's  red,  'ceptin'  de  skin  uv  his  head,  which  is  sorter 
yaller,  but  on  the  thu'd  day  begin  ter  turn  black  jes' 
erbove  de  eyes,  and  in  er  few  weeks  he's  all  black  'ceptin' 
de  bottom  uv  his  hands  an'  feet,  his  wottles  an'hock 
fethers,  de  tip  uv  his  stomach  an'  de  spot  whar  he  sets 
on  all  day. 

"Wai,  arter  de  cabin  wus  put  up  an'  de  sun  had  set, 
de  big  stew  wus  sarved  wid  apple  brandy  an'  den,  Lord, 
de  fun  sho'  started!  Course  I  c'u'dn't  be  in  it  much— 
de  dancin'  an'  juberlashun  under  de  trees — case  I  wus 
de  keeper  uv  de  lam's,  it  bein'  my  house-raisin'  an'  my 
fus-bohn.  Now  de  keeper  uv  de  lam's  is  dis:  de 
wimmin  folks  allers  bring  dey  babies  along  ter  de 
dance  an'  de  house  raisin'  an'  when  de  house  is  up  an'  de 
floor  laid  an'  night  cums  an'  de  games  begins,  de 
babies  is  all  suckled  an'  laid  out,  ever'  one  on  his  own 
sheepskin,  on  de  flo'  uv  de  new  house  fur  ter  go  to  sleep, 
an'  de  daddy  uv  de  new-bohn  kid  is  called  de  keeper 
uvde  lam's  an'  must  set  dar  an'  watch  'em  an'  nuss  'em 
whilst  de  yudders  eat  an'  play.  It's  hard,  but  it's 
de  onwritten  law,  an'  de  objec'  am  to  give  de  new  daddy 
er  lesson  in  pashents  an'  nussin'an'keerin'  furchilluns. 

"Wai,  dey  wus  forty  on  'em,  mighty  nigh  de  same 
age,  wid  er  fair  sprinklin'  uv  sorrels  an'  browns,  whilst 
sum  look  lak  dey  mouten  be  made  outen  new  saddles 
an'  jinger  cakes.  It  went  ergin  me  mightily  to  be 
pestered  wid  all  er  dem  new  colts  wid  dey  projeckin' 
ways,  but  I  had  er  big  bottle  uv  apple  brandy  an' tucker 
little  consolashun  frum  it  now  an'  den  myse'f,  an' 
ever  time  er  kid  'ud  wake  up,  I'd  jes  gin  'im  er  stiff 


134  "UNCLE  WASH" 

drink  uv  apple  brandy  an'  stick  de  big  toe  uv  de  kid 
jes'  above  him  in  hes  mouth  ter  suck  on  twell  he  dozed 
off.  Dey  wus  three  long  rows  on  'em.  I'll  sw'ar,  boss, 
ef  onct  I  didn't  have  'em  all  konnected  dat  away  lak 
links  in  er  sauasge.  Dat  an'  de  brandy  focht  'em  ever' 
time  an'  I  wus  jes'  chucklin'  ter  myse'f  at  whut  erfine 
nuss  I  wus,  an'  dat  I  c'u'd  soon  be  able  to  go  out  an* 
hug  de  gals,  too,  when  dey  all  commence  to  have  de 
jim-jams  in  dey  sleep — seein'  snakes  an'  things  an' 
howlin'  an*  wigglin',  an'  frum  de  way  some  on  'em's 
eyes  bulged  out  dey  must  er  had  elerfants  an'  rino- 
cerasses  arter  'em,  too.  Wai,  suh,  I  broke  fur  de 
stable  an'  got  er  quart  bottle  uv  stuff  we  gin  de  mules 
fur  de  colic — asserfedity  an'  h'artshorn,  ladernum  an* 
tu'pentine,  all  mixed — an'  den  I  got  de  vinerger  funnel 
to  git  it  down,  an'  I  drenched  ever'  one  on  'em  wid  dat 
mule  medercine,  stuck  ever'  one's  toe  in  de  naixt  one's 
mouth  an'  put  'em  ter  sleep  ergin. 

"Sum  on  'em  didn't  wake  up  fur  er  week,  but  dat 
ain't  de  tale  I'  tellin'  now. 

"I  tuck  ernurr  drink  outen  de  bottle  an'  den  I 
happen  ter  see  one  uv  de  lam's  dat  struck  my  eye.  He 
wus  de  preacher's  kid,  whose  daddy,  er  yaller  feller, 
ole  mistis  had  'larned  'im  to  read  an'  write  an'  he  tuck 
to  preachin',  and  his  lam'  wus  er  bright  sorrel  wid  flax 
mane  an'  tail,  an'  es  he  was  erbout  de  size  uv  my  little 
coon  I  thou't  I'd  play  er  joke  on  de  wimmin  folks,  bein' 
es  how  Dinah  wus  sot  on  havin'  er  yaller  kid.  So  I  ups 
an'  changes  de  clothes  an'  puts  de  yaller  preacher's 
lam'  on  our  sheepskin  an'  ourn  on  de  yuther's  pallet. 
Wai,  sah,  de  mo'  I  thort  uv  it  de  funnier  it  seemed, 


HIS  LITTLE  PREACHER.  135 

an'  den  I  laffed  twell  I  nearly  wake  'em  up  again  an' 
tuck  ernurr  drink  an'  went  in  ter  swap  'em  all  off. 
I'd  pick  out  two  erbout  de  same  size  an*  sex  an' 
changed  dey  clothes  an'  bed,  an'  when  I  got  through 
dere  wa'nt  nary  one  on'  em  dat  u'd  know  hisse'f  from 
de  naixt  one,  an'  es  dey  all  smelt  erlike  I  didn't  see 
how  dey  mammies  wus  ever  gwine  ter  git  'em  straight 
ergin.  Course  I  'spected  er  lot  uv  fun  when  de  games 
broke  up  an'  tuck  ernurr  drink  an'  fix  fur  ter  see  it. 
But  hit  seems  de  niggers  played  on  twell  one  o'clock  an' 
forgot  all  erbout  time  ontwell  one  uv  de  patteroles — de 
mounted  poleece  dat  kept  niggers  from  prowlin'  at 
night  in  dem  days — rid  up  wid  er  hickory  whip  an'  tole 
'em  it  wus  time  fur  to  go  to  bed.  Dis  skeered  'em  so 
dey  all  lit  out  an'  ever'  'oman  jes'  bundled  up  her  baby 
an'  left,  an'  not  one  uv  'em  knowed  de  difference.  Es 
dey  all  lived  from  one  ter  ten  miles  erroun'  on  de 
farms,  thinks  I,  dar'll  be  lots  uv  fun  in  de  mawnin'! 
Dinah  tuck  ernurr  look  at  hern  befo'  she  went  to 
sleep,  an'  den  I  heurd  her  whoop:  'Glory,'  she  said, 
'my  chile  is  done  turned  yaller  —glory — glory!' 
She  heard  uv  it  bein'  done  onct  befo'  an'  b'leeved  it. 
Wai,  I  seed  she  had  her  h'art  sot  on  it  so  bad  I  'lowed 
I'd  let  it  go  at  dat,  'specially  es  dey  nurver  had  been  er 
preacher  in  de  family,  but  all  er  mine  hed  tuck  to  hoss 
racin'  an'  Dinah  wus  so  happy  over  it  she  c'u'dn't 
sleep. 

"I  sed  dar  'u'd  beer  time  in  de  mawnin',  but  bless 
you'  soul,  honey,  it  started  befo'  day.  Lights  wus 
seen  flashin'  ever'where  an'  niggers  wus  runnin  roun' 
wailin'  an*  weepin'  an'  wonderin'.  De  black  uns  had 


136  "UNCLE  WASH" 

yaller  babies  an'  yaller  'uns  had  black  'uns,  de  upper 
crust  had  scrub  babies  an'  de  lettle  black  cohn  fiel' 
scrubs  wus  in  de  highes'  nigger  socshul  swim — wid  de 
house  gals  an'  maids  an'  qualerty  niggers.  Wuss  en 
all,  de  chilluns  jes'  slept  rat  on  an'  didn't  seem  to  keer 
whar  dey  wus  an'  who  dey  b'longed  to.  I  tell  you, 
boss,  ef  you  ever  gits  bothered  'bout  yo'  chap  not  goin' 
to  sleep,  jes'  gin  'im  er  good  dose  uv  hoss  medercine ! 

"It  'u'd  been  all  right,  an'  jes'  erjoke  ef  dey  hadn't 
stirred  up  ole  Voodoo  Jake,  de  witch  doctor.  He 
'lowed  de  babies  wus  all  right  but  dey  had  been  voo 
dooed  an'  de  culler  changed,  an'  he'd  hafter  rub  'em 
all  wid  de  ile  uv  er  black  cat  killed  in  de  full  moon  on  de 
grave  uv  er  man  dat  had  been  hung  fur  murder,  an' 
dey'd  be  all  right.  Er  nigger  jes'  nachu'lly  b'leeves 
all  dis,  'specially  all  dem  dat  had  de  yaller  babies  an' 
not  one  on  'em  'ud  gin  'em  up. 

"An'  dat's  hu'  cum  I  got  er  yaller  off-spring  in  my 
family  ter-day,  I  am  sorry  ter  say.  But  arter  erwhile 
it  got  sorter  mernoternous,  an'  I  thort  I'd  lak  ter  git 
my  own  black  baby  back,  an'  I  tole  ole  Marser  whut 
I  done,  an'  sum  uv  de  niggers  raised  sech  er  stir  dat  de 
white  folks  hilt  er  meetin'  an'  did  git  sum  on  'em  back 
ag'in,  but  dey's  jes'  about  ha'f  uv  'em  now  in  dat 
community  dat  don't  kno'  who  dey  daddies  is.  But 
dat's  nachul,  you  kno'.  But  Dinah  hed  got  stuck  on 
de  yaller  baby,  an'  de  preacher's  wife  on  de  black  one, 
an'  tho'  I  kicked  erbout  it  I  c'u'dn't  do  nuflfin'.  I  tole 
ever'body  how  I  dun  it  fur  er  joke,  but  dey  all  sed  I  wus 
sech  er  liar  dey  wouldn't  b'leeve  me.  Ole  Marser  laff, 
an'  say  he  hated  to  swap  off  er  good  black  colt  fur  cr 


HIS  LITTLE  PREACHER.  137 

yaller  one,  but  ef  it  suited  de  wimmin  folks  it  suited 
him,  an'  so  dar  I  wus. 

"Wai,  dey  soon  found  I  wus  right,  for  when  de  boys 
growed  up  er  leetle,  an*  big  'nufT  fur  dey  pedergree  to 
sho'  up,  whut  you'  reckin  my  black  un  dun  'fore  he 
ten  yeahs  ole?  De  preacher  tuck  'im  ter  camp  meetin' 
an'  he  got  up  er  mule  race  on  de  outside  an'  broke  up  his 
daddy's  campmeetin'  one  day  by  ridin  ole  Marster's 
gray  mule  cl'ar  over  er  bunch  uv  mourners  an'  spite  uv 
punishment  an'  pra'ars  arter  dat,  he  tuck  to  ole 
Marster's  stable  an'  dey  ain't  nurver  got  him  out  of  it 
yit. 

"An'  dat  yaller  dorg  I  got,  he  warn't  long  showin'  de 
mettle  uv  his  pasture  an'  de  proof  uv  his  pedergree," 
and  the  old  man  sighed  and  looked  troubled. 

"How?"  I  asked. 

"Marse  John,"  he  said  sadly,  "befo'  he  wus  ten 
yeahs  ole  he  stole  ever'  yaller  legged  chicken  in  de 
na'borhood." 


MISS  KITTY 

O  heah  de  banjo  ringin', 

O  heah  de  tamboreen; 
O   heah    de   darkies   singin', 

Susanna,  she's  my  queen. 
O  cum,  my  luve;  O  cum,  my  luve,  wid  me; 
We'll  dance  an'   sing  down   by  de  'simmon   tree. 
O  heah  de  banjo  ringin', 

O   heah   de   tamboreen; 
O  heah  de  darkies  singin', 

Susanna,  she's  my  queen. 

A  SONG  in  type  is  as  unsatisfactory  as  one  of  Na 
ture's  pastels  on  pasteboard,  and  the  simple  negro 
melody  above  sounds  nothing  like  the  vibrating  notes 
that  floated,  not  long  ago,  into  my  window,  fresh  from 
the  echoing  strings  of  a  banjo.  I  could  not  resist  it, 
and  on  going  out  I  found  Uncle  Wash  under  the  elm 
that  shaded  his  cabin  door.  The  moonbeams  glittered 
askance,  flecking  the  earth  with  silvered  blossoms 
and  changing  each  flooded  leaf  into  a  night-blooming 
flower.  The  distant  notes  of  a  tree-frog  came  from 
the  forest  beyond,  while  the  regular  cadences  of  a 
whippoorwill  added  just  the  tinge  of  weirdness  necessary 
to  form  the  background  of  a  banjo  song.  In  darky 
language,  the  old  man  was  "makin'  the  banjo  hum," 
and  for  melody  and  sweetness,  in  the  hands  of  a  master, 
there  is  no  instrument  more  weirdly  musical. 

(138) 


THE  OLD  MAN  WAS  MAKING  THE  BANJO  HUM. 


MISS  KITTY.  139 

To-night  Old  Wash  was  beside  himself.  The  brass 
thimble  on  his  "pickin'  finger"  flashed  in  the  moon 
light;  his  foot  patted  in  unison,  and  fluttered  like  a 
black  bat  trying  to  leave  the  earth.  Even  his  body 
kept  time  and  swayed  to  and  fro  with  the  music.  I 
listened  in  silent  delight.  The  tune  I  had  heard  before, 
but  not  the  words,  for  he  was  improvising  as  he  played. 

"De    little    stars    am    winkin', 
Dey  'bout  ter  go  ter  sleep; 
De  pale  moon  now  am  sinkin', 
An'  daylight  shadders  creep. 
O  cum,   my  luve,  we'll  dance   Ferginny  reel;' 
De  sun  am  up  an'  shinin';  now  fur  de  cotton  fiel*. 
O  heah  de  banjo  ringin', 
O   heah   de   tamboreen; 
O    heah    de    darkies    singin', 
Susanna,  she's  my  queen." 

"  Go  on,  old  man, "  I  said :  "  Give  me  that  song  again. 
You  almost  make  me  feel  like  going  courting  again. 
What's  the  matter  with  you?  Thinking  about  start 
ing  all  over  in  life?" 

"No,  sah;  'taint  dat,  sah,"  laughed  the  old  man, 
"  'taint  dat.  Dey's  too  much  moss  on  de  old  tree  fur 
de  leaves  ter  cum  ergin.  De  sap  can't  rise  when  de 
bark  am  dead.  De  leaves  fall  off  when  de  cotton  boll 
open.  Didn't  you  nurver  think  erbout  it?"  He 
added  after  a  moment's  thought,  "De  soul  don't 
nurver  gro'  ole  ef  it's  lived  right.  De  head  gits  white 
an'  de  lim's  weak  an'  de  eyes  dim,  but  de  soul  gits 


i4o  "UNCLE  WASH" 

younger  es  it  grows  older,  de  ole  man  gits  mo'  lak  er 
boy  es  he  goes  down  de  hill.  Nachur  kinder  seems  to 
ease  us  off  de  stage  uv  life  gently,  lak  she  fotch  us 
in.  In  our  ole  age  we  gits  young  ergin  an'  childish 
an'  happy.  We  even  try  ter  kick  up  our  heels  ergin  an' 
be  funny  an'  'magine  we  gwinter  live  er  long,  long  time 
yit.  Sho'  me  de  ole  man — don't  keer  how  ole  he  am — 
dat  don't  spec'  ter  live  at  least  ten  yeahs  longer.  Dat's 
Nachur's  way  uv  foolin'  us,  sah;  dat's  her  way  uv 
puttin'  her  babies  ter  sleep — de  las'  long  sleep.  Put- 
tin'  'em  ter  sleep  contented  lak,  an'  happy,  thinkin' 
dey'll  wake  in  de  mornin'  an'  be  younger  ergin. 

"  I  tell  you,  sah,  ole  Marster's  mighty  good  ter  us. 
He  could  er  put  us  heah  widout  hope  ef  he'd  er  wanted 
to;  he  could  er  put  us  heah  widout  sweet  dreams, 
widout  vishuns  uv  er  better  wurl,  widout  dat  onpur- 
chasabul  feelin'  dat  cums  to  us  when  we  knows  we 
dun  right — widout  even  de  blessed  Book.  But  he 
didn't.  An'  so  we  dream  on  to  de  last  an'  hope  to  de 
last,  an'  b'leeve  we  gwinter  be  better  an'  stronger 
to-morrer  an'  cling  to  de  Good  Book  fur  de  sweetes' 
promis'  uv  dem  all — de  promis'  dat  we'll  live  ergin. 

"No,  sah,"  he  continued,  as  he  threw  off  his  solemn 
tone  and  brightened  up  a  bit,  "no,  sah,  sho'  es  you  live 
right  you'll  git  younger  es  you  gro'  older.  Why,  sah, 
de  oldes'  man  or  woman  in  de  wurl  am  de  middle- 
aiged,  chillun-raisin',  money-makin',  bizness-wurry- 
in',  ain't-got-no-time-to-eat  folks.  Dey  am  de  ole 
ones,  fur  older  den  de  gray  haids  lak  me  dat  dun  laid 
erside  all  dese  heah  trashy  things  an'  got  to  romantin' 
ergin. 


MISS  KITTY.  141 

"Why,  whut  you  reckon  I  wus  thinkin'  erbout  to 
night?"  asked  the  old  man,  as  he  looked  sheepishly 
around  at  the  doorway,  in  which  sat  Aunt  Dinah,  his 
wife.  This  dusky  lady  had  been  listening,  apparently 
unconcerned  at  the  old  man's  narration,  but  filling 
the  still  night  air  with  the  fragrant  breath  of  "deer 
tongue  and  Williamson  leaf,"  as  the  smoke  curled 
up  from  her  newly-made  cob  pipe. 

"Thinkin'  about  marrying  again?"  I  asked,  as  I 
glanced  suspiciously  at  Aunt  Dinah,  and  then  I 
watched  her  shuffle  her  feet  disdainfully  as  she  stopped 
smoking  long  enough  to  remark  laconically: 

"Jest  let  'im  go  on,  young  Marster — let  'im  super- 
seed,"  she  said  as  she  followed  her  usual  custom  of 
throwing  in  some  big  word  sounding  something  like 
the  one  she  was  trying  to  use.  "Let  'im  superseed. 
He  has  dese  fits  ever,  now  an'  den,  an'  de  bes'  way  ter 
stop  'im  am  to  let  'im  run  down  lak  you  hafter  do  dese 
heah  old-fashuned  clocks.  Whut  er  indebibul  wurkin' 
appleratus  he'd  be,"  she  said  ironically,  "ef  he  wus 
only  es  game  in  der  tater  patch  as  he  am  in  de  moon- 

light.- 

The  old  man  glanced  sorrowfully  at  the  doorway  and 
continued:  "Ternight  I  jes'  gotter  thinkin'  erbout  my 
young  Mistis,  Miss  Kitty,  de  younges'  dorter  uv  Marse 
Robert  Young;  de  chile  uv  his  ole  aige,  by  his  secon' 
wife,  de  pooty  leetle  Yankee  guv'ness  dat  cum  down 
frum  Bosting.  She  cum  down  ter  teach  ole  Marster's 
yudder  gals,  but  she  got  ter  luvin'  her  skolers  so  she 
married  dey  daddy  so  she  cud  be  er  mammy  to  'em. 
Ain't  it  strange  how  wimmen  folks  will  git  up  eny 


142  "UNCLE  WASH" 

kinder  excuse  to  marry  on?  Wy,  I  knowed,  'em  ter 
marry  fur  indergestion  an'  dat  tired  feelin',"  laughed 
the  old  darky,  as  he  winked  at  me  and  then  glanced  at 
the  cabin  door. 

"Wai,  she  made  'em  er  good  muther  an'  ole  Marster 
er  good  wife,  ef  she  did  luve  cod-fish  balls  an'  baked 
beans.  An'  her  dorter,  Miss  Kitty !  Why,  man  erlive, 
dat  Yankee  cross  on  our  Southern  stock  jes'  got  up  de 
pooties'  gal  dat  ever  said  '  Yas'  to  young  luve.  She  had 
all  de  brains  an'  intellec'  uv  her  mammy's  side  wid 
all  de  grace  an'  beauty  an'  high  breedin'  an'  lily-com- 
plecshun  uv  us  Youngs.  Her  mammy  was  allers  dead 
in  fur  edercashun,  an'  so  ole  Marster  saunt  an'  got  'er 
three  guv' nesses;  one  fur  edercashun,  one  fer  musica- 
shun,  an'  one  fur  dressercashun ;  an'  my!  how  she  did 
shine  when  she  growed  up!  She  wus  de  pooties'  gal 
dat  ever  trod  blue  grass,  de  queenlies'  one  dat  ever 
gethered  up  her  trail,  an'  de  sweetes'  one  dat  ever 
pulled  er  rose  in  er  golden  bower  whar  de  hunny- 
suckers  gethers  de  dew-draps  an'  de  turkel  dove 
sings  in  de  moonlight.  I  wus  de  kerridge  driver  an' 
kep'  de  horses,  an'  es  I  uster  drive  her  about  an'  see 
her  wid  all  her  grace  an'  beauty  git  in  an'  out  de  ker 
ridge,  I  tell  you  I  wus  thankful  it  wus  me  dat  had 
charge  uv  her  an'  not  my  ancestors  in  Affercur — fur 
dey  would  have  et  'er  up,  thinkin'  she  wus  sum  kinder 
plumidged  bird  uv  de  golden  pheasant  tribe. 

"Endurin'  her  seventeenth  yeah,  Marse  Robert's 
bes'  frien'  died  in  Alerbama  an'  lef  Marse  Robert 
gyardeen  fur  his  son,  Henry  Robert  Littleton,  an'  he 
soon  cum  out  to  Tennessee  'kose  he  had  no  close  kin 


MISS  KITTY  143 

livin'  an'  Marse  Robert  wanted  to  raise  'im,  though 
he  wus  nineteen  dat  fall.  An'  he  wus  er  fine  young 
man,  sah;  es  gentle  es  er  gal  an'  es  nervy  es  er  red-bird 
in  de  settin'  time.  Ef  by  accerdent  he  got  in  de 
wrong,  he'd  mighty  nigh  stan'  enythin'  to  git  right 
ergin;  but  onc't  in  de  right  he'd  fight  fur  er  eyelash. 
Wy,  I  onc't  seed  'im  'pollergize  to  de  overseer,  who 
was  allers  over-barin'  an'  cussin',  'stead  uv  actin'. 
Jes'  think  uv  it!  'pollergize  to  de  overseer!  'kose  he 
happen  not  to  know  de  overseer's  orders  one  day  an' 
saunt  one  uv  de  han's  on  ernudder  erran'.  T'would 
er  made  no  diff'rence  ef  he  hadn't  'pollergized  fur  it, 
but  common  trash  can't  stan'  quality  an'  allers  mis 
takes  gentleness  fur  lak  uv  grit,  an'  Marse  Henry's 
humbleness  made  de  po'  white  trash  uppish  an'  he 
snapped  out  dat  he  didn't  spec  no  better  raisin'  from 
er  boy  had  cum  frum  sech  er  cracker  state  es  Alerbama 
— hoo — hoo — e! — dat's  es  fur  es  he  got — Marse  Henry 
knocked  'im  down  three  times  befo'  he  cud  git  up  onc't. 
"  Bringin'  two  sech  nachurs  togedder  under  de  same 
roof  am  mighty  nigh  de  same  thing  es  mixin'  shampain 
an'  red  lips,  an'  I  seed  de  thing  wus  fixed  up  betwixt 
'em  befo'  ole  Marster  caught  on  an'  saunt  de  boy,  as 
he  called  'im,  to  Ferginny  to  finish  his  aigucashun. 
But  dat  didn't  do  no  good;  enybody  dat  had  ever  seed 
Miss  Kitty  en'  cud  ferget  'er  ain't  de  kinder  folks  de 
gods  luve  ter  kill  young,  an'  arter  he  ben  dar  fo'  yeahs 
an'  finish  his  aigucashun  heah  he  cum  back  to  Ten 
nessee  ergin.  'Yore  haid's  level,  Marse  Henry,'  sez 
I  to  myself;  'de  right  kinder  man  don't  fall  in  luve  but 
onc't  an'  den  he  strikes  de  pyore  metal  or  de  wuss 


144  "UNCLE  WASH" 

pocket  uv  flint  dat  ever  turned  er  pick;  an*  in  yore  case 
ef  you  ain't  struck  de  pore  metal  I's  black!' 

"An'  I's  heurd  uv  Romeo  an'  Greece  an'  all  dem  ole 
luvers,"  said  the  old  man  learnedly,  "but  de  way 
dese  heah  two  young  folks  luved  one  ernudder  befo' 
de  summer  went  by  wus  ernuf  to  make  all  de  yudder 
aiges  take  in  deir  signs.  Dat's  de  Happies'  time  uv 
ever'body's  life,  enyhow,"  he  soliloquized:  "We 
ain't  got  much  brains  at  dat  stage,  'kose  Nachur  didn't 
intend  us  ter  have  'em;  ef  we  did  we  wouldn't  git  kotch 
in  de  trap  she  sets  fur  us — de  trap  uv  matermony. 
Arter  we  gits  kotched, "  said  the  old  man  as  he  shook 
all  over  with  quiet  laughter — "arter  we  gits  kotched, 
we's  lak  de  fox  in  de  fable  dat  got  his  tail  in  de  steel 
trap — we  kerry  it  roun'  wid  us  ever'whar  we  go  an' 
make  out  lak  hits  des  whut  we  wus  lookin'  fur  all  de 
time,  an'  er  butiful  ornerment — but,  Lor,  hit  pinches 
mighty  hard  all  de  same." 

(A  vigorous,  jerky  puffing  in  the  doorway  and  clouds 
of  outraged  smoke  went  up  to  the  stars !) 

"An'  whut  you  reckon  my  idee  uv  Heaben  is?" 
queried  the  old  man  emphatically.  "  Hit's  er  blessed 
place  way  up  on  sum  star,  whar  de  Good  Marster 
'lows  us  ter  fall  in  luve  ever'  day,  but  never  'lows  us  ter 
spile  de  dream  by  marryin' — fur  dat  would  sho'  bust 
up  Heaben!"  he  said  as  he  shot  another  look  at  the 
doorway.  "  An'  I  kin  prove  it  by  de  Scripturs  deysef, " 
he  continued.  "Don't  de  Scripturs  say  'dar  shall  be 
no  marryin'  nur  givin'  in  marriage?'  an'  don't  dey 
also  teech  us  dat  up  in  Heaben  we  will  all  luv  one 
ernudder?  Well,  jes,  put  dem  two  arguments  toged- 


MISS  KITTY  145 

der  an'  tell  me  how  you  gwinter  git  erround  'em,  sah? 
Don't  dat  prove  de  p'int?" 

"I  don't  wish  to  get  around  them,"  I  laughed, 
"they  seem  to  be  good  doctrine;  but  go  on  with  your 
story." 

"Wai,  sah,  de  match  wus  de  talk  uv  de  country,  as 
bein'  de  mos'  suiterabules'  one  dat  ever  wus. 

"Marse  Henry  an'  Miss  Kitty!  When  I  thinks  uv 
dem  ternight  I  kin  see  de  dew  on  de  young  grass  uv 
life,  de  roses  in  de  gyarden  uv  luve,  an'  de  stars  in  de 
skies  uv  happiness.  I  smell  de  flowers  uv  de  past 
ergin  lak  dey  uster  smell  when  I  wus  young.  I  see 
de  long  walks  in  de  shade  uv  de  ellums  an'  de  oaks,  an' 
de  breaf  uv  de  primroses  floats  over  de  gyarden.  I 
see  de  hoss-back  rides  when  de  flutter  uv  Miss  Kitty's 
ribbon  meant  de  flag  uv  de  yunerverse  to  Marse  Henry, 
an'  de  perfume  on  her  bit  uv  lace  han'kerchief  brought 
up  de  sweetes'  fragrance  frum  de  depths  uv  his  hart. 
Her  eyes  wus  so  bright  dey'd  bring  him  up  befo'  day, 
lak  de  sun  befo'  its  time,  an'  her  cheeks  wus  es  butiful 
es  de  mohnin'  skies  erbloom. 

"Oh,  dar  am  luves  an'  luves,  but  dar  am  only  jes' 
one  fus'  luve  fur  us  all.  De  make-shifts  arter  dat  am 
lak  tryin'  to  make  de  red  rosebud  bloom  twict. 

"  But  sumhow  ruther  ole  Marster  had  his  haid  sot  on 
er  young  lawyer  in  town  dat  dey  called  Capin'  Estes, 
dat  wus  also  courtin'  Miss  Kitty,  lak  ever'body  else 
dat  seed  'er,  an'  ole  Marster  looked  wid  mo'  favor  on 
his  suit  dan  he  did  on  Marse  Henry's,  on  account  uv  de 
relashunship  betwixt  'em.  But  dar's  where  ole  Mar 
ster  missed  it,  an'  de  onlies'  time  I  urver  knowed  'im 
10 


146  "UNCLE  WASH" 

miss  it.  But  dis  feller  wus  slick,  an'  he  done  it  all  wid 
de  leetle  insterment  in  'is  jaw.  He  was  allers  talkin' 
erbout  de  constertooshunal  perogatives  uv  de  divine 
right  uv  freemen'  an'  er  makin'  law  speeches  in  de  Jestis 
court  an'  er  windin'  up  wid  'my  country,  my  muther, 
my  Gord,  an'  my  feller  citizens',  fer  he  was  sech  er 
demijug  he  allers  put  de  citizens  highes'.  Ef  he 
wasn't  free  wind  at  de  rasho  uv  16  ter  i,  an'  de  on- 
limited  coinage  uv  brass,  my  name  ain't  Washingtun! 
Wy,  he  cu'd  talk  on  fo'  things  at  de  same  time, 
pocket  er  fee  on  bof  sides  uv  er  case,  an'  keep  one 
eye  on  de  bar-room  an'  de  yuther  on  de  church  steeple. 
He  cu'd  play  poker  lak  er  gambler,  drink  lak  er  Kansas 
drought,  an'  pray  lak  er  country  deacon.  He  cu'd 
get  drunk  lak  er  sinner,  an'  yit  stan'  highes'  es  er 
saint ;  mak  luve  wid  one  eye  to  Miss  Kitty  an'  yit  keep 
de  yuther  solemnly  sot  fur  ole  Marster  lak  St.  Paul 
watchin'  fur  revolushuns! 

"  But  de  thing  soon  cum  ter  er  end.  Marse  Henry 
was  too  honerbul  to  court  er  gal  widout  her  daddy's 
say-so,  an'  de  Chewsday  befo'  Easter  him  an'  ole 
Marster  had  er  long  talk  in  de  library.  Den  Marse 
Henry  cut  out  sorry  lak  an'  solemn  an'  he  tells  me  ter 
take  extry  keer  uv  Jap — das  wus  his  half  thurrerbred 
saddle  hoss — an'  ter  rub  'im  down  well,  an'  ter  feed 
'im  oats,  not  er  grain  uv  cohn.  'Fur',  sez  he,  'Wash, 
Ps  ergwine  erway  furever!' 

"An'  dat  night  I  seed  er  ghost!  Hit  wus  jes'  arter 
Marse  Henry  started  off.  I  hilt  his  sturrup  an'  beg 
'im  wid  tears  in  my  eyes  not  ter  leave  us:  'Who  gwi' 
he'p  me  take  keer  uv  de  hosses  now  an'  pick  out  de 


MISS  KITTY  147 

yearlin'  fur  de  spring  races?  Who  dis  nigger  gwi' 
foller  arter  de  houn's  in  de  spring  an'  de  patterges  in  de 
fall?  Who  gwi'  be  de  mohnin'  sun  uv  de  place  in 
de  strength  uv  his  truth  an'  honer,  an'  de  sweet  moon 
light  in  his  tender  senterment  an'  simplicity?  Who 
gwi'  set  de  'zample  'mong  de  young  folks  fur  dat 
conshus  quietness  dat  cums  wid  de  knowledge  uv 
gameness  dat  am  afeered  uv  nothin'  but  doin'  wrong? 
O,  Marse  Henry!  Marse  Henry,  we  can't  let  you  go!' 
"  I  hilt  on  ter  his  sturrups  an'  beg  'im  ergin  an' 
ergin,  fur  sumhow  I  felt  lak  I'd  nurver  see  'im  eny 
mo'.  But  he  only  grip  my  han'  ergin  an'  ergin,  an* 
look  at  me  good-by — good-by — wid  his  eyes,  fur  he 
cuden't  talk,  an'  rode  off  in  de  gloom  down  de  big 
row  uv  ellums.  An'  dars  whar  I  seed  er  ghost!  De 
fus'  one  I  ever  seed!  Fur  es  I  stood  watchin'  'im  wid 
sumpin'  lak  er  pound  weight  in  my  throat,  an'  mighty 
nigh  er  ton  in  my  heart,  I  seed  dat  ghost  plain  es  I 
ever  seed  enything!  He  hed  got  nearly  to  de  gate 
in  de  dark  uv  de  big  overshadowin'  trees  whar  de  new 
moon  wus  tangled  up  in  de  lim's  (sho'  sign  er  bad 
luck!)  when  out  slip  de  ghost  frum  behind  er  big  tree 
an'  I  lakter  drap  in  my  tracks!  De  lump  went  down 
in  my  throat,  but  great  Gord,  how  my  hair  riz!  De 
ghost  wus  dressed  in  er  windin'  sheet  uv  white  an'  wid 
long  hair  hangin'  down  er  back,  an'  she  skeered  Jap 
so  he  bolts  an'  snorts;  an*  she  muster  skeered  Marse 
Henry  too,  fur  I  seed  'im  stoop  down  ter  grab  dat 
ghost  an'  save  hisse'f,  an' — an' — den — fo'  Gord!  I 
kno'  yo'  won't  believe  it,  but  Marse  Henry  jes'  kissed 
dat  ghost  time  an'  ergin  an'  I  heurd  'im  say  'furever, 


i48  "UNCLE  WASH" 

my  darling,'  er  sumpin'  dat  sounded  lak  it,  an'  den 
Jap's  gallup  clattered  up  de  pike  an'  de  young  Marster 
dat  I  luve  so  well  wus  gone! 

"De  naixt  thing  we  heurd,  Marse  Henry  wus  way 
down  in  Fluridy,  an'  de  naixt  he  hed  jined  General 
Lopez  wid  de  five  hundred  Americans  dat  went  over 
ter  he'p  de  Cubans  fight  fer  liberty.  An'  dey  got 
er  fighter  when  dey  got  Marse  Henry!  Hit  was  bred 
in  'im,  fur  it  cum  jes'  es  nachul  fur  us  Scotch-Irish 
ter  fight  fur  liberty — enybody's  liberty  an'  eny 
kinder  liberty — es  it  is  fer  er  game  cock  ter  crow  when 
he  sees  de  fus'  beam  uv  daylight. 

"But  you've  read  history  an'  kno'  how  dat  fight 
ended.  Marse  Henry  beat  'em  time  an'  ergin,  but 
arter  erwhile  deleetle  ban'  was  overpowered  by  de 
whole  Spanish  army,  an' — wal' — he  v/iped  away  a 
tear — "dem  dat  didn't  die  in  de  fight  wus  hung  up 
lak  dorgs!  All  but  Marse  Henry — brave,  generous, 
noble  Marse  Henry!  De  papers  said  dat  he  erlone 
wus  shot,  dat  he  giv  de  Spanish  officers  ole  Jap,  de 
horse  he  luved  so  well,  ef  he'd  shoot  'im  lak  er  sojer, 
an*  not  hang 'im  lak  er  spy!  An'  dey  shot  'im  fer 
doin'  whut  wus  bred  in  'im  ter  do,  when  two  uv  his 
gran'daddies  follered  de  flag  uv  Green's  brigade  in 
No'th  Calliner,  or  helped  whip  ole  Ferguson  at  King's 
Mountain. 

"Wal  sah,  de  news  lakter  kill  us.  Hit  hurt  even  ole 
Marster,  fur  I  uster  heah  him  walkin'  de  library  flo' 
an'  talkin'  erbout  it  to  hisself:  'De  boy  wus  too  high 
strung,'  he  would  say.  'I  did  not  want  'im  to  leave 
us.  I  had  no  idea  he  wus  gwine  on  dat  fool  filler- 


MISS  KITTY  149 

buster!'  An'  den  he  would  storm  erroun'  dat  room 
an'  git  hot  under  de  collar  as  he  thort  how  contrary  to 
de  rules  uv  war  dey  had  acted  in  shootin'  Marse 
Henry,  an'  den  all  at  onct  I  see  'im  tak  down  de 
ole  sword  his  daddy  wore  at  King's  Mountain,  an' 
es  he  fotch  it  down  wid  er  bang  on  de  library  table 
lak  he  thort  de  whole  Spanish  army  wus  dar,  hesez: 
'Damndem  Spanish  dorgs!  Dey  am  nuffin'  but  hired 
cowards,  an'  I  cud  tak  er  regerment  uv  Tennessee 
troops  lak  dat  brave  boy  an'  give  de  Union  de  leetle 
islan'  es  er  birf-day  gif.'  Damn  'em,  I  say!'  Oh,  ole 
Marster  wus  sho'  mad,  an'  when  he  got  mad  in  er 
righteous  cause  he  cud  mak  eny  body  ershamed  uv 
his  cussin'  record! 

"An'  Miss  Kitty! — I  jes'  can't  talk  erbout  it  widout 
chokin '  up.  Fur  two  yeahs  she  went  in  deep  mournin ', 
his  own  widder  cuden't  er  tuck  on  wusser,  fur  she 
nurver  smiled  an'  noboddy  wus  'lowed  ter  menshun 
Marse  Henry's  name,  hit  seemed  to  'feet  her  so! 

"But  Time  am  Sorrow's  doctah,"  sagely  continued 
the  old  man,  "an'  his  poultice  will  draw  out  de  sharpes' 
pain! 

"  Five  long  yeahs  passed,  an '  Estes  had  got  high  up  in 
pollertics;  he  started  out  on  er  brass  basis  an'  went 
frum  postmaster  ter  Congress.  He'd  er  gone  ter 
Heaben  ef  he  could  er  worked  it  through  er  pollitercal 
convenshun ! 

"An'  now,  whut  you  reckon?  De  news  cum  dat 
he  gwine  ter  marry  Miss  Kitty — an'  sho'  'nuff — hits' 
true! 

"When  I  foun'  hit  out,  I  gin  up  all  faith  in  mankind 


150  "UNCLE  WASH" 

in  gin'ral  an'  womankind  in  perticler.  But  den  I  felt 
sorry  fur  Miss  Kitty  when  I  larnt  dat  she  wus  jes' 
gwine  ter  marry  'im  to  please  'er  old  daddy — fur  she'd 
do  enything  honorbul  fur  ole  Marster — an'  dat  she 
tole  Estes  she  would  marry  'im  but  dat  she  would  allers 
luve  Marse  Henry.  She  nurver  tole  me,  mind  you,  but 
one  night  I  seed  it  plainer  den  wurds  kin  tell.  I  seed 
it  an'  knowed  'er  heart  wus  in  Marse  Henry's  grave. 
1  seed  er  ghost  ergin,  but  hit  wus  Marse  Henry's  ghost 
dis  time. 

"Dis  wus  de  Chewsdy  night  befo'  Easter,  jes'  five 
yeahs  to  de  night  dat  Marse  Henry  went  away.  De  big 
weddin'  wus  ter  cum  off  de  naixt  night  an'  de  house 
wus  full  uv  comp'ny  an'  cakes.  Miss  Kitty  nurver 
smiled,  but  hed  gone  erbout  all  day  lak  de  Greek  maiden 
spotless  an'  pyore,  dat  de  skule  books  tell  us  dey  useter 
kill  to  de  wicket  idols. 

"Dat  night  I  had  gone  ter  sleep  thinkin'  erbout 
Marse  Henry,  an'  how  Jap  useter  stan'  in  de  fust  stall 
naixt  to  de  door;  how  Marse  Henry  aller  useter  cum 
whistlin'  outen  de  house  when  he  wanted  me  to  saddle 
Jap,  an'  how  we  useter  talk  erbout  de  hosses,  an'  go  to 
de  races  an'  hooraw  ef  our  hoss  won.  I  wus  jes' 
thinkin'  how  open  an'  manly  he  wus,  an'  how  fur 
erpart  he  wus  frum  dat  Estes  es  de  two  ends  uv  Eter 
nity,  an'  den,  whut  you  reckon?  I  heurn  Marse  Henry 
cum  outen  de  house  lak  he  did  in  de  days  uv  old.  I 
heurd  'im  cum  down  to  de  stable  do',  an'  pop  his  ridin' 
whup  es  er  signal  fer  me  ter  bring  up  Jap,  an'  den 
slash  his  whup  on  his  leg  while  he  waited — jes'  lak 
he  useter  do  hundreds  uv  times  befo',  an'  all  so  nachul 


MISS  KITTY  151 

lak,  jes'  lak  he  wus  gwinter  ride  ole  Jap  ergin  arter  de 
houn's.  An'  den,  sah,  I  heurd  his  voice  jes'  es  plain  es 
I  urver  heurn  annything  an'  jes'  lak  he  useter  say, 
only  hit  seemed  so  faint  an'  fur  erway:  'Hello,  Wash, 
saddle  Jap!  It's  time  we  wus  takin'  erhan'  in  defun!' 
heurd  it  so  plain,  I  jumped  outen  de  bed,  an'  said  es 
I  rushed  to  open  dedo',  Ts  cumin',  Marse  Henry,  I's 
cumin'!'  But  when  I  open  de  do'  I  wus  so  diser- 
pinted  I  lak  ter  cried,  fur  I  cuden't  see  nuffin'  but  de 
trees  in  de  dim  moonlight,  an'  I  heurd  nuffin'  but  de 
hoot  uv  de  owl  over  in  de  woods.  I  felt  so  cuis  I  cud 
en't  go  ter  sleep,  fur  I  wus  sho'  Marse  Henry's  sperit 
wus  summers  erbout,  an'  dat  he  cuden't  rest  in  his 
grave  on  ercount  uv  de  weddin',  an'  I  jes'  walked  down 
to  de  gate  whar  I  last  seed  'im  five  yeah  befo'  go  down 
de  road,  nurver  ter  cum  back  eny  mo';  ever'thing 
wus  so  nachul  I  thought  I  heurd  Jap's  footfalls  ergin, 
an'  den! — whut  wus  dat  I  seed  all  dressed  in  white 
wid  her  long  hair  hangin'  down  her  back  an'  kneelin' 
down  under  de  tree  whar  she  last  seed  Marse  Henry 
erlive,  an'  sobbin'  lak  her  hart  wud  break?  De  same 
ghost  I  seed  dat  night  five  years  ergo.  I  cuden't 
stan'  an'  look  at  sech  sacred  grief  as  dat,  so  I  went  in 
my  house  thinkin'  maybe  de  las'  one  wusn't  er  ghost 
sho'  'miff,  but  jes'  Miss  Kitty  prayin'  at  de  tree  she 
last  seed  Marse  Henry  erlive  an'  weepin'  de  las'  time 
she  cud  honorably  weep  fur  'im. 

"De  naixt  day  wus  de  big  day,  but  I  cuden't  stay 
dar  an'  see  dat  sacrilege.  'Sides  dat,  I  felt  cuis  'bout 
seein'  Marse  Henry's  ghost,  an'  I  knowed  sumpin' 
wus  gwine  happen.  I  knowed  it  fur  sho'  when  I  went 


1 52  "UNCLE  WASH" 

in  de  kitchen  next  mohnin'  an'  heurd  sister  Ca'line 
tell  how  she  found  er  screech  owl  in  Miss  Kitty's  room 
dat  mohnin'.  Sez  I  to  mysef:  'Dar!  I  knows  whut 
gwinter  happen  now.  Po'  innercent  angel!  She'll 
nurver  live  twell  termorrow-but  thank  Gord  fur  it,  fur 
dat  yudder  Screech  Owl  will  nurver  git  in  her  room ! 

"But  when  I  went  to  de  stable,  dar  wus  ernudder 
sign:  Ole  Flint,  Marse  Henry's  ole  pet  houn',  an'  de 
bes'  one  dat  ever  smelt  er  deer  track,  wus  stone  dead 
in  de  stall,  dead  frum  er  snake  bite,  too!  'Dat's  dat 
Estes  doin's  ergin,'  sez  I.  To'  innercent  Miss  Kitty!' 
An'  de  cows  wus  pawin'  an'  lowin'  at  de  pastur  bars! 
Now  ever' body  knows  dat  when  de  milk  cows  go  ter 
pawin'  an'  'lowin'  in  de  mohnin'  befo'  brekfus,  some 
body  gwinter  die  befo'  night.  I  stood  even  dat,  but 
I  gin  up  when  I  went  to  de  well  ter  draw  water  fur  de 
horses,  fur  dar  wus  Miss  Kitty  jes'  as  plain  es  she  cud 
be,  laid  out  in  her  coffin  in  her  bridal  dress ! 

"I  drapped  dat  bucket  an'  lit  out  frum  dar! 

"An  'I  went  to  ole  Marster  an'  beg  'im  to  let  me  go 
down  to  de  lower  place,  five  miles  erway;  an'  I  went  to 
de  lower  place,  five  miles  erway,  an'  dar  I  stayed  all 
day  long  waitin'  fur  de  calamerty  to  cum,  an'  groanin' 
in  de  sperit  lak  de  proffit  uv  ole  when  he  know  de  buter- 
ful  city  gwinter  fall.  Fur  I  seed  Miss  Kitty  dead  jus' 
es  plain  es  I  see  you! 

"Oh,  dat  wus  er  turribul  day,  an'  one  dat  I'll  nurver 
furgit,  an '  I  sot  dar  in  de  cabin  an '  fasted,  an '  didn't  eat 
nuffm  all  day,  an'  wrastled  wid  de  sperit  in  prayer,  all 
day  long. 

"De  weddin'  wus  ter  cum  off  at  nine  er  clock  at 


MISSS  KITTY  153 

night.  I  wus  settin'  in  de  cabin  do'  myself;  all  de 
yudder  darkies  had  gone  to  de  big  house  fur  de  weddin' 
supper,  but  I  didn't  wanter  go;  I  hed  no  stummic  dat 
night — I  wus  all  hart,  thinkin'  'bout  po  Marse  Henry 
an'  Miss  Kitty's  fun'ral  dat  I  knowed  wus  bleeged  ter 
cum! 

"  Jes'  es  de  clock  struck  nine,  I  heard  er  hoss  cum  up 
de  pike,  clatter,  clatter,  bipperty,  bipperty,  bipperty, 
an'  I  jumped  up  mighty  nigh  er  yard  high! 

"  I  knowed  de  soun'  uv  dem  feet !  I'd  kno'  'em  in  er 
million — dem  wus  Jap's  feet,  an'  I  hollered,  glory  hally- 
luyer!  Befo'  I  knowed  whether  ter  run  under  de  bed 
or  out  on  de  pike — fur  I  wus  sorter  skeered  an'  sorter 
brave — er  big,  strong,  fine-lookin'  man,  es  brown  es  er 
race  hoss,  pulled  up  his  hoss,  covered  wid  sweat  an' 
foam,  at  de  do'.  Pulled  up  his  hoss  quick  lak  an'  nac- 
hul — too  nachul  fur  dis  nigger,  fur  jes'  de  moshun  uv 
de  han'  fotch  de  tears  to  my  eyes — fur  dat  hoss  wus 
Jap,  de  same  blood-lak,  cordy-legged,  big-nostriled, 
graceful  Jap  uv  old! 

"An  grate  Gord!  One  look  in  de  blue  eyes  uv  de 
rider,  de  fine  mouf,  de  frank,  manly  face,  now  bronzed 
an '  er  trifle  stern,  hit  wus  Marse  Henry !  Marse  Henry ! 

"I  jumped  up  an'  sed,  'O  Marse  Henry,  ghost  er  no 
ghost,  I's  gwinter  hug  you!  ' — an'  I  did,  hugged  him 
an'  Jap,  too. 

"An'  Marse  Henry  laf  an'  sed:  'Wash,  my  boy, 
I'm  no  ghost,  but  flesh  an'  blood,  an'  awful  hongry 
flesh  at  dat.  What  am  you  doin'  way  down  heah? 
Give  us  sumpin'  ter  eat,  fur  I'm  anxious  to  git  on  to  de 
ole  place  an'  we  need  sumpin'  to  brace  us  up.  Jap  an* 


154  "UNCLE  WASH" 

I  have  cum  over  fifty  miles  sence  daylight,  an '  while 
dat's  no  long  ride  fur  us,  you  kno'  we  bleeged  ter  have 
sumpin'  ter  run  on,'  he  sed  laffm'. 

"Lor/  sonny,  you  jes'  orter  seed  me  hustle  erroun'! 
An'  whiles  I  wus  fixin'  'im  sumpin'  to  eat,  he  tole  me 
all  erbout  it,  how  he  hed  jined  Lopez  an'  sailed  frum 
Key  West,  an'  all  erbout  de  fights  he  hed.  An'  he 
sed  dat  he  wuz  de  onlies '  one  left  uv  all  his  men,  an ' 
dat  he  owed  his  life  to  Jap's  heels  an'  er  Spanish  gineral. 
He  sed  dat  when  he  stormed  Las  Pozas,  his  men  run 
over  de  Spaniards  an'  whupped  'em  in  er  twinkle,  an' 
dat  sum  uv  his  men  begun  to  hang  de  Spaniards  in 
return  fur  hangin'  sum  uv  dairs  de  yeah  befo',  but 
when  he  foun'  it  out  he  tried  to  stop  it  an'  he  run  in  an' 
cut  down  de  Spanish  gineral  dat  dey  hed  hung  up,  but 
dat  his  men  got  mad  even  wid  him  an'  mutinied  an' 
he  hed  to  draw  his  pistols  on  his  men  an '  cut  down  de 
officer  at  de  point  uv  his  guns,  'kase  he  sed  he  wan't 
fightin'  er  hangin'  war  but  er  civilized  war. 

"An  he  saved  de  officer's  life  an'  exchanged  'im  an' 
saunt  'im  home.  De  papers  wus  right  in  sayin '  Marse 
Henry  wus  arterwards  overpowered  an'  hed  ter  sur 
render,  an'  de  dozen  er  two  left  wus  sentenced  to  be 
hanged.  In  vain  Marse  Henry  beg  'em  to  shoot  'em 
lak  soljers,  but  dey  hung  his  men  befo'  his  eyes,  an 
dey  wooder  hung  him,  but  he  bribed  de  officer  in  charge 
wid  de  gift  uv  Jap  to  'low  'im  to  be  shot  and  not  hung! 

"De  naixt  mohnin'  when  dey  led  Marse  Henry  off 
to  be  shot,  an'  when  he  wus  er  mile  or  two  frum  de  lines, 
de  gineral  whose  life  he  hed  saved  wus  waitin'  at  de 
spot  fur  'im,  an'  commanded  de  squad  to  halt,  an* 


MISS  KITTY  155 

den  he  give  Marse  Henry  his  side-arms  an'  Jap,  dat  he 
foun'  de  officer  wid,  an'  he  sed  to  Marse  Henry:  'Go; 
you  saved  my  life  onct  at  de  risk  uv  yo'  own.  I  return 
de  compliment. ' 

"An'  den  Marse  Henry  told  me  how  he  hed  went  in 
de  sugar  bizness  an'  made  er  fortune  an'  now  he  cum 
back  ergin  to  live. 

'  But  dat  wus  five  yeah  ago,  Marse  Henry, '  sez  I ; 
'Why  ain't  you  cum  home  befo'  or  write  us  dat  you 
still  livin?'  An'  den  Marse  Henry's  face  grew  dark  es 
he  sed:  'Bekase,  Wash,  Unkle  Robert  wrote  me  befo' 
de  war  wus  ended  dat  Kitty  wus  married  to  Estes, 
an'— 

'Dat's  er  lie,  Marse  Henry/  I  shouted,  es  I  cum 
to  my  senses  ergin  an '  thout  uv  Miss  Kitty  fur  de  fust 
time — 'Dat's  er  lie!  Ole  Marster  didn't  write  no  sech 
letter  es  dat!  She  ain't  married  yit — leastwise — dat 
is  ter  say — O  Marse  Henry,  am  it  nine  erclock  yit? 
An'  she  nurver  will  be  fur  she's  boun'  ter  die  ternight, 
an'  I's  waitin'  out  heah  to  kno'  when  to  go  to  de 
fun'ral — po'  innercent  angel!'  an'  I  'spec'  I  begun  ter 
cry. 

"Marse  Henry  look  at  me  stern  lak,  an'  ax  me  what 
I  mean.  Den  I  went  back  an'  tole  'im  all,  an'  I  seed 
de  tears  run  down  his  cheeks  es  I  tole  'im  how  she  hed 
loved  an'  suffered  all  dese  yeahs.  An'  tole  'im  'bout 
de  ghost  scene  las'  night  an*  how  she  sobbed  under  de 
trees,  an'  es  I  tole  him  I  seed  'im  shake  all  over  lak  er 
child  er  sobbin',  an'  when  I  tole  him  'bout  de  nurver 
failin'  death  signs  I'd  seen  dis  mohnin',  an'  dat  I  'spec' 
right  now  she  dun  dead  er  married — 'twould  be  all  de 


156  "UNCLE  WASH" 

same  to  her — he  vaulted  wid  one  leap  in  de  saddle  an* 
I  seed  Jap's  tail  fly  up  es  he  plunged  two  spurs  in  his 
side,  an'  es  he  shot  erway  in  de  night  I  heurd  'im  say 
sorter  hard  lak:  Toller  me,  Wash,  fur  I's  gwinter  take 
er  hand  in  dat  fun'ral!' 

"  I  jumped  on  er  race  filly  ole  Marster  hed  in  trainin' 
at  de  lower  place,  an'  I  follered  'im  wid  my  heart  beat- 
in'  er  drum  in  my  breast,  an'  de  wind  playin'  er  fife 
in  my  two  years!  Lor',  sah,  dat  filly  cud  fly!  but  run 
es  she  mout,  dar  sot  Marse  Henry  allers  jes'  erhaid, 
lookin'  lak  er  statue  on  Jap;  an'  de  ole  hossrunnin' 
lak  er  swamp  buck  wid  de  pack  at  his  heels !  Runnin, ' 
sah,  lak  he  knowed  whut  wus  up  an'  dat  ten  minnits 
now  wus  wurth  yeahs  termorrer!  An'  ever'  now  an' 
den  I'd  ketch  er  glimpse  uv  Marse  Henry's  back  an* 
heah  'im  say:  'Grate  Gord,  ef  I  kin  only  git  dar  in 
time!' 

"Nobody'll  ever  b'leeve  it,"  continued  the  old  man, 
"but  we  broke  de  five  mile  recurd  dat  night,  sho!  An' 
when  we  cum  to  de  house  it  wus  lit  up  frum  garret  to 
cellar  an'  I  cud  see  de  guests  in  de  parlors  an'  halls  an' 
heah  de  music  an'  de  lafter.  But  es  I  rid  up  closter,  my 
hart  sunk  in  my  buzum,  an'  we  bofe  pulled  up  wid  er 
jerk;  fur  dar,  standin'  dar  in  de  light  uv  de  bay  winders 
wid  flowers  above  an '  belo'  an '  in  de  lace  uv  de  curtains, 
dar  stood  Miss  Kitty!  An'  de  orange  blossums  wus 
in  her  hair,  an'  er  man  wus  by  her  side,  an'  dey  wus 
shakin'  han's  wid  de  people. 

"  Grate  Gord,  dey  wus  married ! 

"I  looked  at  Marse  Henry,  'spectin'  to  see  'im  pale 
an*  shaky  lak  I  wus,  an'  mighty  nigh  ready  ter  fall 


MISS  KITTY  157 

down  often  his  boss,  but  dars  whar  I  overlooked  de 
thurrerbred  dat  wus  in  'im,  an'  stead  uv  bein'  pale,  de 
luve  light  wus  in  his  eyes,  but  he  hed  dat  cuis  hard  smile 
on  his  lips  dat  allers  made  me  think  uv  de  cocked  ham 
mer  uv  er  hair-trigger  durringer. 

"He  spurred  up  clost  to  me  an'  jes'  es  nachul  lakes 
ef  he  wus  tellin'  me  ter  saddle  Jap,  an'  jes'  es  quiet  es 
ef  he  wus  gwine  to  church,  he  sez:  'Wash,  be  keerful 
now  fur  you  may  save  er  life  wid  er  level  haid.  I  will 
ride  up  to  de  side  porch,  jes'  whar  it  reaches  to  Jap's 
saddle  skirts.  I  mus'  speak  to  Kitty  once  mo'  befo' 
I  go  back  to  Cuba  forever.  Slip  in  an'  tell  her  sum 
one  wants  to  see  her  quickly,  on  de  side  po'ch.  Go,  an' 
remember  your  haid!' 

"  I  wus  glad  ernuf  to  go.  All  de  sarvants  wus  now 
pourin'  in  to  shake  han's  wid  Miss  Kitty,  arter  de  white 
folks  hed  shook,  an'  I  cum  in  nacherly  wid  de  res'. 
De  white  folks  hed  stood  back  an'  wus  watchin'  our 
awkward  way,  an'  de  room  wus  full  uv  flowers  an* 
sweet  sents  an'  hansum  folks. 

"But  Miss  Kitty  jes'  hanted  me — I  cuden't  keep 
my  eyes  ofTen  her.  She  wus  es  butiful  es  truth  in  de 
halls  uv  de  angels,  an'  yet  es  sad  es  sorrow  at  de  grave 
uv  her  fust  born.  She  look  lak  er  queen  bowin  '  right 
an'  left,  an'  her  grace  shone  lak  er  pillar  in  er  temple. 
She  tried  her  bes'  ter  smile  on  us  po'  niggers  dat  had 
raised  her  an  luved  her  all  her  life,  but  de  smile  jes' 
flickered  'round  her  dark,  sad  eyes  lak  er  April  sun 
beam  tryin'  to  git  out  frum  behind  er  March  cloud. 
When  she  shuck  han's  wid  me  I  seen  two  tears  start  up 
in  her  eyes,  lak  little  silver-side  fish  dat  rise  to  de  sur- 


158  "UNCLE  WASH" 

face  uv  de  lake  fur  air,  an '  I  knowed  she  wus  thinkin ' 
uv  Jap  an'  his  rider,  an'  I  cuden't  stan'  it  no  longer; 
I  jes '  stuck  my  big  mouf  up  to  her  lily  bloom  uv  er  yeah 
an*  tried  to  say  it  easy,  but  it  seemed  to  me  de  folks 
heurd  it  over  at  quartahs,  er  mile  erway:  'Cord  bless 
yo, '  Miss  Kitty,  honey !  But  cum  out  on  de  side  po'ch, 
quick!' 

"Fur  er  secon'  she  looked  at  me  lak  she  thort  I  wus 
crazy,  an'  den  I  tried  ergin,  steppin'  on  her  butiful 
dress  an'  little  white  slipper,  I  got  up  so  close  an* 
whispered  so  yearnestly: 

"  'Miss  Kitty!  Miss  Kitty!  !  fur  Cord's  sake  cum 
out  on  de  side  po'ch,  quick!' 

"She  nodded  her  haid,  an'  I  seed  she  thort  sumbody 
wus  in  distress,  an'  es  I  went  out,  I  seed  her  excuse  her 
self  to  de  guests  an' — an' — wal,  de  feller  dat  wus  stand- 
in'  in  de  winder  wid  'er,  an'  den  she  gethered  her  trail 
in  her  lef  han'  an'  follered  me  out  es  stately  es  Pharo's 
darter  follered  de  niggers  uv  old." 

Here  the  old  man  paused,  and  a  look  of  triumph 
glinted  in  his  dim  eye,  as  he  said,  "Dar  am  sum  scenes 
in  life  fixed  on  our  mem'ry  so  dey  git  plainer  es  we  gro' 
older,  an'  dis  wus  one.  De  happiness  uv  two  lives  wus 
at  stake,  an'  I  trimbled  so  I  cuden't  think,  fur  I 
knowed  er  wurd  too  soon  or  too  late  or  out  uv  place 
would  ruined  ever'thing.  De  poppin'  uv  er  match 
might  er  brought  on  er  shootin'  an'  de  whinny  uv  er 
black  hoss  es  he  stood  blacker  in  de  night  mout  er 
turned  er  weddin'  inter  er  fun'ral. 

"  I  glanced  at  de  side  po'ch — dar  sot  er  black  hoss- 
man  on  er  steed  es  black  es  he  wus.  Not  er  muscle 


MISS  KITTY  159 

moved  but  I  seed  two  steel-blue  eyes  shine  even  in  de 
darkness.  Den  out  cum  Miss  Kitty,  so  nachul  lak, 
an*  soft  an'  easy: 

"  'What  is  it,  Uncle  Wash;  who  wishes  to  see 
me?' 

"  I  p'inted  to  de  hossman.  Den  I  heurd  her  step  es 
she  walked  ercross  to  de  shadder,  an'  den  I  heurd  er 
voice  cum  outer  de  shadder:  'Oh,  Kitty,  my  darlin/ 
have  you  indeed  forgotten  me?' 

"To  my  dyin'  day  I'll  see  her  es  she  hesertated,  tried 
to  advance,  stopped,  staggered,  an'  fell  into  de  out 
stretched  arms  uv  de  hossman,  es  she  exclaimed  piti 
fully:  'Dear  heart,  I  tole  them  all  de  time  I  wus 
yores!' 

"An'  whut  you  reckon  Marse  Henry  dun?  He 
kissed  dat  man's  wife  scanlus,  time  an'  ergin,  an'  stead 
uv  spurrin'  erway  wid  her  lak  I  spected  to  see  'im  do, 
an'  lak  enybody  else  wooder  dun,  he  jes'  walked  wid 
'er,  dead  fainted  es  she  wus,  right  inter  de  parlor  whar 
dey  all  wus,  an'  laid  her  gently  down  on  er  sofer,  an* 
den  he  turned  'round  lak  er  majah  gineral  reviewin' 
troops,  an'  he  said:  'Unkle  Robert,  I  have  a  word  to 
say  heah!' 

"Wai,  sah,  'mazement  wan't  de  wurd.  De  wimmin 
screamed  an'  de  men  looked  lak  dey  wanted  to.  Even 
ole  Marster  cuden't  do  nuffin'  but  stare.  Estes  cum 
to  fust  an'  made  er  quick  movement  to  git  to  de  sofer 
whar  Miss  Kitty  wus,  quiet  es  er  sperit.  But  when 
Marse  Henry  seed  'im,  his  eyes  flashed  lak  two  stars,  an' 
I  dodged  my  haid  spectin '  to  heah  er  pistol  shot  naixt, 
but  I  didn't,  only  dis  frum  Marse  Henry,  'an  is  cum 


160  "UNCLE  WASH" 

from  'im  lak  er  battery,  es  he  laid  one  ban'  on  er 
instrument  dat  bed  bin  all  through  de  Cuban  fight. 

"An'  den  he  tuhned  loose.  Gord,  sah,  he  towered 
over  Estes  lak  er  lion  dat  bed  cum  home  an'  foun' 
er  cur  in  his  house.  An'  all  de  time  his  eyes  shone 
lak  lightnin'  an'  his  face  wus  sot  lak  er  jedge's,  an' 
his  voice  wus  lak  er  god's !  He  pulled  de  forged  letter 
out  an'  ole  Marster  read  it,  an'  Miss  Kitty  cum  to  an' 
read  it,  an'  he  tole  Miss  Kitty  how  he  writ  to  her  time 
an'  ergin  an'  at  las'  got  dis  letter.  An'  she  cried  lak 
her  heart  would  break,  an'  she  tole  how  she  bed  writ 
to  him  time  an'  ergin  befo'  she  heurd  he  wus  dead,  an' 
nurver  got  no  letter,  an'  befo'  I  knowed  it  I  jes'  hol 
lered:  'O,  hit  pays  to  be  postmaster,  it  do!' 

,,An',  sah,  whut  do  you  reckon  ole  Marster  dun? 
He  jes'  hugged  Marse  Henry  an'  wrung  his  ban'  an' 
call  'im  his  son,  an'  den  he  got  so  mad  he  lost  his  ole 
haid,  an'  cum  runnin'  out  in  de  hall,  an'  sed:  'Wash! 
Wash!  Bring  me  my  pistols,  Wash!  The  forgin' 
villian  to  dare  marry  er  gemman's  darter!' 

"In  er  minnit  he  cum  runnin'  back  wid  er  pair  uv 
durrungers  in  his  ban's  an  ernudder  pair  in  his  eyes, 
an'  he  rushed  up  to  Marse  Henry  an'  sed:  'Henry,  my 
son,  you  shan't  kill  'im!  Let  yore  ole  uncle  have  dat 
pleasure.  The  forger!  Why,  he  married  my  darter, 
n'  I  thort  he  wus  er  gemman!' 

"But  Estes  wus  gone,  gone  to  parts  unknown.  An' 
Miss  Kitty  wus  laffin  an'  cryin',  in  Marse  Henry's 
arms,  befo'  all  de  guests  an'  ever'body,  an'  ole  Marster 
stop  sorter  sho't-lak,  when  he  seed  'er,  fur  he  wa'n't 
perpared  fur  dat,  an'  Marse  Henry  laffed  an'  pulled  out 


MISS  KITTY  161 

ernudder  paper — er  little  slip  uv  paper,  an'  den  he  sed: 
'In  de  sweetness  uv  dis  hour  I  furgive  'im,  Unkle. 
Besides,  he  ain't  married  yo'  darter.  Dis  little  in 
strument  am  jes'  five  yeahs  de  oldes'.  I'm  sorry, 
Unkle/  he  sed  wid  er  twinkle  in  he's  eyes  dat  belied 
his  appollergy,  'but  I  married  Kitty  de  night  befo'  I 
lef  five  yeah,  ago.  Heah  is  de  license  an'  dis  am 
Squire  Sanders'  signature — an'--wy  hello,  Squire, 
I'm  glad  to  see  you  ergin!' — es  Squire  Sanders  an'  all 
de  folks  he  knowed  flocked  erroun '  'im  to  shake  his 
ban*. 

"Gord,  sah,  dat  wus  er  happy  night!  But  nuifin' 
wud  do  ole  Marster  but  dey  mus'  be  married  over 
ergin  by  de  Piskolopium  preacher,  an'  in  gran'  style, 
too. 

"So  in  erbout  er  hour  Marse  Henry  cum  out,  dressed 
in  der  unerform  uv  er  majah-gineral,  an'  dey  wus 
married  ergin — an  de  hansomes'  pair  dat  ever  sed  yes 
to  de  preacher.  An'  when  I  went  up  to  shake  dey 
han's,  Marse  Henry  tell  me  to  stan'  by  he's  side,  an' 
den  he  pull  out  ernudder  paper,  one  jes'  freshly  writ, 
an'  he  read  it  to  all  de  folks — thank  Gord,  he  had 
bought  me  frum  ole  Marster! 

"An  '  den  he  turned  roun'  to  me,  nigger  dat  I  wus, 
an'  he  sed  wid  er  tear  in  he's  manly  eye:  'Wash,  er 
true  frien'  am  er  jewel  on  de  finger  uv  life.  I  fout  too 
hard  fur  de  freedom  uv  others  to  see  my  bes'  frien'  er 
slave.  I  have  bought  yo'  frum  Unkle  Robert,  es  dis 
bill  uv  sale  will  show.  Take  it;  you  are  free!' 

"I  drapped  at  his  feet  an'  cried  an'  kissed  his  han', 
but  he  pulled  me  up,  an'  es  he  put  five  big  goF  pieces 
11 


1 62  "UNCLE  WASH" 

in  my  ban*  he  laffed  an'  sed:     'An  these  are  frum  my 
wife,  for  valuabul  assistance  rendered  at  her  fun'ral!' 

"An'  es  I  kissed  her  sweet  han',  Gord  bless  her, 
she  looked  up  at  Marse  Henry  laffin'  by  her  side,  an' 
de  smile  she  give  him  wus  lak  de  break  uv  day  in 
Heaben!" 


THE  EXAMINATION 

MARSE  JOHN,"  said  Uncle  Wash  the  other 
night,  'Ts  got  to  hoi'  'Zamination  fur  teacher 
over  in  my  Deestrick,  an'  I  wants  you  to  write  out  de 
questions.  I's  Deestrick  Cummisherner  over  dar 
fur  culler'd  fo'ks  an'  not  one  uv  'em  can  git  license  to 
teach  or  preach  or  git  married  unless  I  pass  on  dey 
pedigree.  An'  whils't  you  's  writing'  out  de  ques- 
t'ons  Marse  John,  jes'  be  good  enough  to  write  the 
answers  too.  It's  er  mighty  po'  teacher  that  ain't  got 
his  answers  es  reddy  es  his  questu'ns.  An '  I  wish  you'd 
jes'  go  erlong  wid  me  and  see  me  squelsh  dem  smart- 
ike  niggers  that  thinks  they  kno's  it  all." 

I  knew  this  meant  fun  for  me,  so  I  went.  On  the 
day  appointed  there  were  three  applicants;  one  was 
a  pompous  looking  darkey  with  a  knack  of  saying  things 
grandiloquently  and  using  big  words.  The  old  man 
named  him  Pompey,  though  his  real  name,  I  learned, 
was  Green  Washington  Shadrock  Smith. 

Number  two  was  a  sanctified,  ashen  and  solemn 
faced  negro  who  was  studying  for  the  ministry,  very 
pious  outwardly  and  exceedingly  cautious  of  commit 
ting  himself,  but  possessed  of  abundant  conceit.  His 
brass  and  assurance  were  great. 

The  old  man  called  him  Parson. 

The  other  was  a  little  sharp-eyed  coon,  always  in  a 
grin,  but  with  an  air  of  really  being  outclassed  among 
two  such  worthies  as  Pompey  and  the  Parson,  but  who 

(163) 


1 64  "UNCLE  WASH" 

took  his  chances  anyway,  for  the  job  paid  fifty  dollars 
a  month. 

They  called  him  Swipe. 

Nothing  pleased  the  old  man  more  than  to  show  off 
his  own  learning  before  the  helpless  applicants,  and  to 
rub  it  in  when  occasion  demanded.  Slowly  and  with 
much  dignity  he  put  on  his  big,  iron-rimmed  glasses, 
unrolled  learnedly  his  manuscript  and  shot  out  this 
grandiloquent  flow  of  learning,  calculated  to  squelch 
any  too  presumptious  candidate  for  the  honors  of  the 
Academy. 

''Now  I's  gwinter  ax  you  all  er  few  supernumerous 
quest'ons  cal'erlated  to  disembody  de  fundermentals 
uv  yo'  understandin'  for  impartin'  informashun !  An' 
I  wants  you  to  chirp  out  es  pert  as  er  jaybird  on  er 
Friday." 

There  is  a  negro  superstition  to  the  effect  that  jay 
birds  go  to  a  place  unmentionable  on  Friday  and  carry 
sand  to  his  Satanic  Majesty.  I  wondered  if  it  was  a 
hint  of  what  the  old  man  had  in  store  for  them. 

Adjusting  his  glasses  again  the  old  man  asked  the 
Preacher: 

"Whut  is  jogerfy?" 

The  answer  came  back  assuringly  and  glibly: 

"Jogerfy  is  de  science  uv  de  earth  an'  de  art  of  navi 
gation." 

The  old  man  squinted  one  eye  and  said  witheringly: 

"  Den  I  suppose  you'd  say  er  coon-dog  wus  de  science 
uv  de  woods  an'  de  art  in  barkin'.  "Nex." 

"Jogerfy" — said  Pompey — "jogerfy — Br'er  Wash- 
ingtun  ain't  dat  got  sumpin'  nurr  to  do  sorter  lak  er 


THE  EXAMINATION  165 

narrer  neck  jinin'  two  dimijohns  uv  Ian',  sorter  lak  it  an* 
so  fo'th  or  sumpin'  lak  it?" 

"Wai',  it  may  smell  uv  the  jug  er  leetle,"  said  the 
old  man,  "but  it  don't  jine  de  demi-john  to  de  extent 
uv  pullin'  out  de  cork!  Nex'." 

"Jogerfy,"  said  the  Swipe,  "is  de  art  uv  joggin'  and 
de  science  uv  gwine  round  circles." 

This  set  the  old  man  to  thinking.  He  scratched  his 
head  and  inspected  the  candidate  closely.  "Ain't  you 
de  nigger  dat  use  to  swipe  old  Hal  P'inter  when  he 
went  to  de  races?" 

"Yassir." 

"Wai,  dat  ain't  zactly  right,  but  it's  got  mo'  sense 
in  it  dan  any  thin'  dat's  been  sed,  an'  I'll  give  you  ten, 
as  you  seem  to  have  sum  hoss  sense  in  yo'  make-up." 

Fortunately  I  was  where  I  could  lean  back  behind  the 
blackboard  and  save  the  dignity  of  the  examination. 
For  all  this  had  been  said  with  a  dignity  and  earnestness 
that  was  appalling,  and  not  the  slighest  trace  of  humor 
appeared  in  their  voices 

"How    am    Tennessee    bounded?"  resumed    the 
old  man. 

"She's  bounded  by  straight  lines  makin'  er  parallelo 
gram  inclinin'  in  er  right  angle,"  came  back  knowingly 
from  the  Parson. 

The  old  man  scratched  his  jaw  and  passed  it  to  the 
Pompey.  The  answer  came  back  as  glibly: 

"Tennessee  am  bounded  on  de  north  by  Kaintucky 
an'  de  rory-bory  Alice,  on  de  east  by  de  Great  Smoky 
mountains,  on  de  west  by  Mt.  Pelee  an'  on  de  south— 

The  old  man  brought  his  fist  down  indignantly. 


1 66  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"  Ef  we  's  bounded  on  all  dem  sides  by  de  things  you 
say  dar  ain't  but  one  thing  dat  can  nachully  bind  us  on 
de  south  an'  dat's  hell!  You  may  know  er  whole  lot 
erbout  dat  place  but  you  don't  kno'  er  leetle  bit  'bout 
jogerfy,"  and  he  put  it  to  the  Swipe. 

"Tennessee  is  bounded,"  said  the  Swipe,  "by  er 
mighty  good  race  track  at  New  Orleans  on  the  south 
by  er  better  one  at  Lexington,  Kentucky,  on  the  north, 
an'  there's  always  good  horses  in  the  east  an'  west." 

"Still  showin'  hoss  sense,"  said  the  old  man.  "I 
pass  yo'  on  dat.  Now  lemme  see  what  you  all  kno' 
'bout  history!" 

He  slowly  studied  out  the  next  question : 

"Relate  de  causes  leadin'  to  de  Riverlushunary 
War.' 

"De  circumnavigatin,  cause  uv  de  Riverlushunary 
War,"  said  the  Preacher  glibly,  "was  de  extenshun  uv 
de  Equator  too  far  into  de  Gulf  stream,  endengerin'  de 
tail  uv  de  British  Umpire." 

The  old  man  sadly  shook  his  head  and  passed  it  to 
Pompay: 

"Dey  fit  us,"  said  Pompey— "Br'er  Washin'tun, 
wusn't  it  fetched  on  by  Injuns  stealing  tea  off  en  dair 
ships  an'  flingin'  it  into  de  sea?" 

"  I  can't  jes  zactly  spress  it  kordin'  to  book  larnin'," 
said  the  Swipe,  "but  it  wus  sorter  lak  dis:  We  drawed 
de  pole  an'  axed  for  er  squar  race,  but  England  fouled 
us  on  de  fus'  turn  an'  got  us  in  er  pocket  on  de  half. 
We  run  into  her,  cut  her  down  an'  won  es  we  pleased. " 

"Go  head,"  said  the  old  man  proudly.  "Hal' 
P'inter  sho'  done  lamed  you  sumpin." 


THE  EXAMINATION  167 

This  put  the  Swipe  at  the  head.  He  scratched  his 
chin,  made  eyes  at  the  others  and  licked  out  his 
tongue. 

"Who  wus  Maj.  Andre?"  slowly  spelled  out  the  old 
man. 

The  preacher  thought  he  was  one  of  the  Disciples 
and  Pompey,  after  much  thought,  said  he  was  the  man 
who  went  over  Niagara  in  a  barrel.  The  Swipe  wasn't 
sure,  but  after  a  while  his  face  lit  up  with  a  broad 
smile  and  he  said: 

"Uncle  Wash,  wusn't  he  er  British  ringer  dat  got 
unkivered  an'  ruled  off  at  de  West  P'int  meetin'? 
'twas  er  close  heat  an'  he  lost  by  er  neck." 

"De  very  man,"  said  the  old  man  enthusiastically. 
"  I  tells  you,  sonny,  if  you    keep   up  dis  clip,  yo'll 
break  all  the  colts  in  dis  deestrick. "     The  Swipe  smiled 
and  sat  up  higher  in  the  sulky.     The  old  man  studied 
his  manuscript  carefully  and  propounded: 

"Describe  de  battle  uv  Shiloh." 

"Dat's  easy,"  said  the  Preacher  smiling.  "It  wus 
er  hard-fit  fight  in  which  Shiloh  got  killed." 

"Oh,  he  did,"  said  the  old  man,  wrathfully.  "I 
guess  de  nex'  thing  yo'll  be  tryin'  to  teach  de  ole  man 
dat  at  de  battle  uv  de  Nelson,  de  Nile  fell  ofen  his  hoss. 
Nex',  wut  you  say  Pompey?" 

"  I  don't  kno'  Br'er  Washingtun,  hit  wus  befo'  I  wus 
bohn!" 

The  old  man  passed  it  to  de  Swipe. 

"  Dat  ar  battle  wus  er  dead  heat  'twixt  Gene'al  Grant 
an'  Johnsing,  wan't  it,  Uncle  Wash?" 

"Sonny,"  said  the  old  man  proudly,  "I's  beginnin' 


1 68  "UNCLE  WASH" 

to  think  I  orter  resign  an'  let  you  ax  dese  questions. 
I  didn't  kno'  dar  was  so  much  hoss  sense  in  hist'ry." 

"What  am  de  princerpal  organ  uv  circulation?" 
spelled  out  the  old  man. 

Pompey  thought  a  long  time  and  said  it  was  the 
liver.  The  Preacher  threw  up  his  hand  and  a  knowing 
smile  went  over  his  face. 

"What  am  it,  den?"  asked  the  teacher. 

"De  hat,"  shouted  the  candidate. 

"Es  dat's  de  fust  time  you's  come  nigh  it  I'll  give 
you  ten  on  dat,"  said  the  old  man,  "but  I  think  de 
P'inter  boy  can  do  better  yet." 

"De  princerpal  organ  om  circulashun,"  said  the 
Swipe,  "am  de  leetle  silver  cartwheel  dat  is  stamped 
wid  de  eagle/ 

"Sonny,"  said  the  old  man,  "ycu  have  sho'  been 
in  de  hoss  bisness  for  some  good.  Now  you  Preacher 
man,  whut  was  de  greatest  trade  of  England?" 

"De  trade-wind,"  came  back  promptly. 

"Trade  yo'  grandmammy's  black  cat,"  said  the 
old  man,  wrathfully.  "What  wind  got  to  do  wid  dis 
deestrick  skule?  You  'pear  to  be  mighty  windy 
yo'se'f.  Nex'." 

"Wan't  dat  de  Pennsylvania  whisky  resurrection?" 
timidly  asked  Pompey. 

The  old  man  glared  at  him.  The  Swipe  held  up  his 
hand,  and  when  the  old  man  nodded,  he  said: 

"De  princerpal  trade,  Uncle  Wash?  'Pears  to  me 
it  wus  when  ole  Richard  tried  to  trade  his  kingdom  for 
er  good  hoss." 

The  old  man  marked  the  Swipe  up  one  more. 


THE  EXAMINATION  169 

"Now  Fes  gwinter  see  wat  you  all  kno'  about 
Fizerology  an'  Anatermy.  Au  whut  am  de  human 
blood  composed,  you  Preacher  man?" 

"De  human  blood  is  composed  uv  red  corkscrews 
an*  white  corkscrews,"  said  the  Preacher. 

"You  tarnashun  fool,"  said  the  lod  man,  "whut 
you  wanter  put  corkscrews  in  yo'  blood  fur  when  you 
can  keep  em  in  yo'  pocket?  Tell  us  all  erbout  de 
human  anatermy,  Pompey  hit's  up  ter  you!" 

"De  human  anatermy,"  said  Pompey,  "is  devided 
into  three  parts,  de  head,  de  chist  an'  de  stumac.  De 
head  contains  de  brains,  if  any.  De  chist  contains  de 
de  lights  an*  de  liver.  De  stumac  contains  de  bowels. 
There  are  five  bowels,  a,  e,  i,  o,  u,  an*  sometimes  w 
an'  y\" 

The  old  man  looked  at  him  with  becoming  scorn. 
"You  two  fools, "  he  said  to  the  Preacher  and  Pompey, 
"  Don't  kno'  ernuff  to  teach  er  houndorg  to  suck  eggs. 
I's  gwinter  give  it  to  you,"  he  said  turning  to  the 
grinning  Swipe,  "fur  it  'pears  lak  you  the  only  nigger 
in  dat  bunch  dat's  got  eny  sense  an*  dat's  de  main 
thing  in  skule  teachin'  or  enything  else." 


HO!    EVERY    ONE    THAT    THIRSTETH! 

THE  corn  crop  up  in  the  Bigbyville  neighborhood 
is  clean,  the  cotton  shows  not  a  spear  of  grass. 
The  potato  field  looks  as  clean  and  green  as  a  billiard 
cushion  floor  and  the  darkies  are  still,  still  hoeing. 
All  this  was  caused  by  a  sermon  Uncle  Wash  preached 
there  on  foot-washing  day  last  month,  a  literal  extract 
of  which  I  got  from  the  old  man  himself: 

"Brudderin'  an'  Sisterin' — You'll  find  my  text  in  de 
six  chapter  uv  Noah's  pistols  to  de  Gentiles. 

"Ho!  ever'   one  dat  thirtieth!  Ho! 

"De  commandments  we  get  from  de  Bible  is  beyond 
de  scrutiny  uv  man,  an'  we  natchurly  think  dat  when 
er  man  gets  hot  an'  thirsty  de  thing  fur  him  to  do  is  to 
hunt  de  spring  branch  an'  quench  his  burnin'  lips. 
But  not  so.  Here  it  is  sot  down  in  black  an*  white  in 
de  book  uv  books,  dat  when  you  git  thirsty,  \es  keep 
on  hoein.' 

"Ho!  ever'  one  dat  thirsteth!  Ho! 

"And  dat  is  right;  de  Bible  is  allers  right.  Hoem* 
is  good  fur  de  limbs,  good  fur  de  wind,  good  fur  de  crap, 
an*  good  fur  de  soul.  De  sun  am  hot  now,  but  de 
wind'll  be  cold  ergin.  De  rays  pour  down  now,  but 
de  sleet'll  come  bye  an'  bye.  Dese  is  de  rays  uv 
drought  an'  thirst,  but  ef  you  want  to  set  back  when 
de  rains  come,  smoke  yo'  pipe  an'  sing  dat  song — 

"Bile   dat    cabbage   down 

For   it   ain't   gwine   to   rain   no   mo' — 

(170) 


HO!    EVERY  ONE  THAT  THIRSTETH     171 

jes'  take  off  yo'  coat,  shed  yo'  shirt,  an'  foller  de  corn 
an'  tater  row,  an'  ef  you  git  thirsty  don't  stop  to  drink, 
but  jes'  keep  on  er-hoein' ! 

"Ho!  ever' one  dat  tbirstetb!  bo! 

"An'  ain't  dat  de  law  an'  de  sense?  Whut  you 
wanter  stop  an'  drink  fur?  Won't  you  jes'  get  thirsty 
ergin?  Keep  on  er-hoein' ! 

"What  did  old  Noah  do  when  de  windows  uv  de 
heabens  was  opened  an'  de  flood  uv  de  great  deep 
begun  to  kiver  de  earth,  an'  de  fools  got  round  him  an' 
laughed  an'  ax  him  whut  he  buildin'  dat  ole  ark  for? 
He  wus  tired,  an'  thirsty,  an'  hot,  but  he  kep'  on 
er-hoein',  for  he  knowed  he'd  get  water  enough  bye 
and  bye.  Ho!  ever'  one  dat  tbirstetb!  bo! 

"What  did  Abraham  do  when  dey  got  roun'  him 
an'  tried  to  stop  him  from  gwine  to  de  Promis'  Lan'? 
He  kept  on  er  hoein'  fur  Jordan. 

"Don't  let  de  flesh  uv  dis  wuiT  fool  you.  Things 
ain't  whut  dey  seem.  Water  looks  mighty  good, 
specially  to  Baptists,  but  whut  we  want  to  do  is  to 
keep  on  er  hoein'.  De  wicked  uv  Noah's  day  didn't 
hoe  eny.  Didn't  dey  git  water  enough?  De  Egypt 
ians  didn't  hoe  eny,  but  follered  de  Israelites  into  de 
Red  Sea.  Didn't  dey  get  water  enough?  Ole  Jonah 
didn't  obey  de  Lord  an'  hoe  to  de  mark,  an'  de  water 
swallowed  'im  fust  an'  de  whale  swallered  'im  next. 
Let  dat  be  er  warnin'  to  you  to  stick  to  de  tex'  uv 
de  Bible  an'  de  doctrine  uv  de  church,  an'  when  you 
get  thirsty  keep  on  er-hoein'.  It's  hard  now,  but 
it'll  be  sweet  bye  and  bye.  It's  hot  now,  but  it'll 
be  cold  bye  and  bye.  You  git  mighty  thirsty  an' 


172  "UNCLE  WASH" 

you  think  de  taters  ain't  never  goin'  to  come,  but 
when  de  winter  rains  come,  an'  de  winds  blow,  an' 
you  set  down  round  de  big  fiah  wid  de  sweet  brown 
'possum  an'  dem  taters,  you  work  so  hard  fur  to  get  in 
de  heat,  an'  sweat,  an'  thirst  uv  summer,  den  will  de 
heart  uv  de  faithful  be  glad,  den  will  you  shout  an'  sing: 

"Ho!  ever'    one    that    thirsteth,    ho!" 

This  last  appeal  was  too  much.  The  congregation 
arose  in  a  body  at  the  words  'possum  and  potatoes  and 
went  off  to  hoe,  leaving  the  old  man  with  no  one  to  pass 
around  the  hat. 


THE  MASCOT  MULE 

IT  is  now  nearly  ten  years  since  I  became  thor 
oughly  convinced  that  there  was  such  a  thing  as 
a  mascot.  I  had  heard  Uncle  Wash  talking  about 
them  and  wishing  for  one,  but  I  put  it  all  down  as  darky 
talk  until  I  fell  heir  to  the  genuine  thing  myself. 

Since  then  luck  has  come  my  way  in  great  chunks. 
I  speak  from  experience.  I  have  tried  it  and  I  know. 

The  mascot  of  all  mascots  is  a  blaze-face  sorrel  pacing 
mule,  whose  dam  is  a  Hal  mare. 

It  is  easy  to  get  a  pacing  mule;  it  is  easier  to  get  a 
sorrel  one;  but  a  blaze-face  pacing  sorrel  Tom  Hal 
mule  comes  only  once  in  a  generation  and  when  he 
does  land  he  is  simply  the  greatest  rabbit  foot  that 
ever  ambled  through  the  southeast  side  of  a  graveyard ! 

From  the  day  that  mule  arrived  on  my  farm,  good 
luck  has  been  mine.  Up  to  that  time  the  bottom  had 
been  out  of  everything.  The  banks  had  burst,  the 
drouths  had  come,  the  blind-staggers,  murrain  and  the 
sheriff,  also  the  Wilson  bill! 

You  could  not  give  a  horse  away  because  he  had  to  be 
fed;  you  could  not  borrow  money  on  a  bond;  cotton, 
down  South,  was  six  cents  a  pound  and  a  drag  at  that ; 
mules,  the  great  staple  of  Middle  Tennessee,  were 
correspondingly  low — scarcely  worth  their  feed;  "an' 
de  only  way  you  can  fill  yo'  stumic,"  said  Uncle  Wash 
to  me  one  day,  "is  to  connect  yo'  lips  to  de  town 
pump." 

d73) 


i74  "UNCLE  WASH" 

He  called  it  the  "water  cure!" 

But  worse  than  that — I  was  heartsick,  for  in  spite 
of  my  most  earnest  and  poetic  declarations,  couched 
in  all  the  foxy  terms  of  masculine  deception — the 
Angel — the  most  beautiful  girl  in  the  world,  remained 
like  a  block  of  ice  in  a  winter  refrigerator,  over  the  door 
of  which  she  had  tacked  this  verse: 

/  do  not  love  you,  Dr.  Fell. 

The  reason  why  I  cannot  tell. 

But  this  I  know  and  know  full  well — 

/  do  not  love  you,  Dr.  Fell! 

Little  did  I  dream,  when,  finding  myself  unable  to 
sell  horses  and  deciding  that  mules  might  sell,  that  this 
homely  creature  of  ears  and  innocence,  which  the  next 
spring  found  ambling  around  the  lot  after  my  favorite 
old  saddle  mare  would  turn  the  tide  of  my  ill-luck. 
But  such  was  the  fact.  Not  only  that,  but  I  am  con 
vinced  that  the  arrival  of  that  mule  turned  the  down 
ward  tide  of  prices  in  the  horse  markets  of  this  country, 
precipitated  the  war  with  Spain,  sank  the  Spanish  navy, 
freed  Cuba,  and  brought  on  the  Boer  War  (thus  enabling 
us  to  sell  to  the  empire-grabbing  British  a  half  million 
of  our  mules  and  horses  in  exchange  for  our  silent 
approval  while  they  butchered  a  brave  and  heroic 
people),  carried  our  flag  to  the  Philippines  and  will 
eventually  make  us  arbiters  of  the  world. 

That  mascot-mule  did  it! 

Uncle  Wash  is  a  man  of  infinite  faith,  and  all  through 
these  gloomy  times  he  said  he  would  pull  through  if 
the  blackberry  crop  and  coon-skins  didn't  fail  us. 


THE  MASCOT  MULE  175 

But  "blackberry  winter"  hit  us  in  May  and  froze 
everything,  and  the  old  man  said  that  a  late  black 
berry  winter  "  allers  make  coon-skins  too  fulluv  wolves 
to  hold  water" — whatever  that  means — any  way  they 
failed  to  materialize,  Even  the  clover  failed  to  come 
up,  the  peas  to  sprout,  the  hens  to  lay.  After  much 
fishing  the  old  man  failed  even  to  land,  amid  the  ice 
floes  and  cold  water,  the  usual  spring  eel  to  make  the 
eel  skin  for  his  rheumatism,  and  that  night  he  came 
in  and  immortalized  himself  in  this  remark: 

"  Taint  no  use,  Marse  John — luck's  erg'in'  us.  They 
ain't  nuthin'  but  ice  aroun'  heah,  an'  ef  we'd  ship  er 
carload  uv  dat  to  hell,  they'd  be  er  freeze  dar  befo' 
daylight,  an'  no  deman'  fur  it." 

In  this  unhappy  state  of  mind  I  went  out  the  next 
day  to  find  the  old  man  bluer  than  ever.  Dinah,  his 
wife — for  lack  of  hope  and  sufficient  nourishment,  I 
suppose — had  joined  the  Sanctified  Ones,  and  Parson 
Candlelight,  the  pastor  of  the  band,  had  been  supping 
there  every  night,  to  the  imminent  danger  of  the  last 
yellow  leg.  Worse  than  that,  the  old  man  said  that  a 
northeast  wind  on  groundhog  day  was  sure  death  to 
the  'possum  crop,  and  that  it  had  blown  all  through 
groundhog  day.  Moreover,  the  jimson  weeds — the 
only  dead  sure  thing  for  chicken  mites  in  July — had 
for  the  first  time  in  fifty  years  failed  to  sprout  in  the 
hog  pen. 

I  could  not  stand  it,  and  I  left.  I  did  not  return 
for  three  weeks,  expecting  to  find  everything  dead  and 
the  farm  a  hole  in  the  ground. 

But  the  old  man  met  me  two  miles  up  the  pike,  a 


176  "UNCLE  WASH" 

beam  on  his  face.     He  could  not  wait  till  I  reached 
him,  but  yelled  out: 

"Luck's  changed — luck's  changed,  boss!" 

"Where?     How?"  I  exclaimed. 

"Come  an'  see!"  he  cried. 

With  great  pride  he  conducted  me  to  the  lot  and 
showed  me  the  new-born  thing  of  moonlight  and  sorrel 
sunset  ambling  around  after  its  dam.  It  looked  like 
a  blaze-faced  grasshopper,  a  spider  on  stilts,  a  lobster 
in  embryo.  I  looked  at  the  old  man  in  disgust,  I 
wanted  to  kill  him  and  the  mule  and  then  commit 
suicide.  But  he  was  chuckling  around  and  looking 
so  happy  and  positive  that  I  finally  said: 

"Well,  this  is  the  last  drop  in  the  bucket — the  last 
cuff  of  ill  luck.  If  this  thing  had  come  brown  or  black, 
with  a  mealy  nose,  it  might  have  been  worth  a  few 
dollars.  But  this  cross  between  a  moonbeam  and  a 
jack  rabbit — this  parody  on  the  Tom  Hal  tribe, 
intended  by  nature  to  be  a  Tennessee  mule,  but 
brazenly  defying  her  laws  by  changing  to  the  blaze-face 
of  a  nobler  animal — creating  all  kinds  of  doubt  as  to 
just  who  and  what  it  is — this  mongrel  of  uncertainty, 
this  cross  between  an  ass  and  an  interrogation  point- 
is  this  the  thing  that  has  set  you  to  smirking  like 
a  schoolgirl  at  recess  and  shouting  and  shouting 
good  luck  two  miles  up  the  pike  like  a  blanked 
idiot?" 

The  old  man  only  smiled  and  said  dryly: 

"How  many  mules  is  you  urver  seed  in  yo'  life?" 

"Thousands  of  them,"  I  replied. 

"Did  you  urver  see  er  blaze-face  mule  befo'?" 


THE  MASCOT  MULE  177 

"No — and  I'm  glad  of  it.  Never  want  to  see 
another  one." 

"Did  you  urver  heah  of  enybody  dat  ever  seed 
er  blaze-face  sorrel  pacing  mule?" 

"Never." 

"An'  his  dam  er  Hal  mare?" 

"Nobody  was  ever  such  a  fool  before,"  I  snarled. 

"It  takes  two  things  to  make  er  sho'  nuff  mascot," 
went  on  the  old  man  without  noticing  my  ill-nature, 
"it  must  be  sorter  kin  to  de  devil  an'  sorter  partake 
uv  de  earth — lak  er  graveyard  rabbit,  or  er  hunchback 
nigger,  or  er  mule  wid  er  cloven  foot  an'  er  blazen  face. 
Den  it  must  be  sump'n  nobody  else  urver  had  befo' — 
an'  dar  it  is,  sah,"  he  said  with  dignity  and  emphasis. 

"An'  now,  sah,  if  you  don't  think  it's  jes'  so  come 
wid  me  an'  see.  De  test  uv  de  puddin'  is  chewin'  de 
bag,  an'  I's  got  de  bag,"  he  chuckled. 

He  took  me  to  the  paddock.  When  I  last  saw  her 
the  Berkshire  sow  had  cholera.  Now  she  had — 

"Why,  old  man,"  I  shouted,  "that  looks  like  it. 
Ten  pigs  and  the  prettiest,  slickest  little  fellows! 
Why,  when—" 

"Las'  night,"  he  chuckled,  "ten  minutes  after  she 
heerd  uv  dat  mascot -mule. " 

"Well,  that  does  look  like  it — good!"  He  chuckled, 
and  knowingly  beckoned  me  to  follow  him. 

In  the  barn  the  Jersey  cow  had  found  a  clean-cut 
sprite  of  a  girl  baby  calf,  with  the  eyes  of  Juno  and  the 
form  of  a  water  nymph. 

"Good,  good!"  I  cried,  slapping  the  old  man  on  the 
back.  "When  did—" 

12 


178  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"Dis  mornin',  sah,  ten  minits  arter  she  seed  dat 
mule  strike  er  pace!" 

"Old  man,"  I  cried,  "this  is  too  good  to  be  true! 
By  the  way,  have  you  found  out  whether  the  mule  has 
had  all  the  breakfast  he  needs?"  I  asked. 

"Done  greased  'im  wid  goose  foot  oil  an'  give  him  er 
milk  toddy,"  he  said,  gravely.  "But  dat  ain't 
all." 

He  took  me  to  the  hen  house,  and  showed  me  a  dozen 
nests  with  newly  laid  eggs. 

"  Bring  out  that  mule  medicine,  old  man,  we'll  have 
an  egg  nog!  This  beats  Jonah  and  all  the  prophets. 
Old  man,  you  ought  to  have  been  born  in  the  days  of 
Solomon. " 

He  chuckled  and  led  me  to  a  rail  fence.  The  jimson 
weeds  were  growing. 

"  Yaller  laig  chickens  an'  plenty  uv  'em  dis  summer, 
if  I  can  keep  on  holdin'  off  de  preachers  an'  other  var 
mints,"  said  he.  Then  his  face  fairly  beamed: 

"Done  fixed  one  alridy." 

"What!" 

"Brer  Candlelight's  'xtinguished — his  light's  gone 
out,"  said  he  solemnly,  and  he  went  into  his  pocket 
and  pulled  out  a  dark-bordered  negro  funeral  notice. 
I  looked  at  it,  shocked.  I  read: 

"  De  sisterin  an'  brudderinuv  Lonesome  Neck  will  bol' 
final  observashun  over  de  remnants  uv  Brer  Candlelight, 
who  died  axerdinterly  of  two  much  chicken  gitfard,  given 
by  Br'er  Washington.  Intervarmint  to-morrow  at  two 
o'clock.  Refreshments  at  de  grave.  SisUr  Washington 
will  coupon  de  crowd." 


THE  MASCOT  MULE  179 

"This  is  terrible,  Wash.  He  was  a  good  old  darky — 
how  did  it  happen  and  what  did  you  have  to  do  with 
it?" 

"O,  he  wus  eatin'  fried  hen  at  my  house  an'  guffawin' 
an*  cacklin'  wid  Dinah,  an'  de  gals,  campin'  on  me 
ever'  night  sense  dey  all  got  spotless,  an'  when  I  axed 
'im  whut  part  uv  de  chicken  he'd  have,  sed  he'd  have 
de  gizzard  kase  it  made  'im  pritty !  I  gin  him  de  gizzard 
— dats  all  I  done — de  Lawd  done  de  res',  fur  jes'  at  dat 
minit  de  mule  wus  bohn — eny  way  he  choked  to  de'f, 
an'  dis  piece  uv  good  luck  cum  mighty  partnership-lak 
wid  de  mule  jes'  to  be  er  axerdint.  No,  de  Lawd  give 
and  de  Lawd  tuck,  an'  dat  makes  it  unanermous,  an* 
we'll  let  it  go  at  dat.  Dinah  fixed  up  dis  notice  an' 
it  means  dar'll  be  refreshments  at  de  grave  an'  she'll 
shaperine  de  crowd.  Now,  ain't  all  dat  er  good  'nuff 
start  fur  one  day?" 

I  had  to  admit  that  it  was. 

He  was  silent  a  while,  and  then: 

"Wall,  whut's  happened  in  town?" 

"Nothing,"    I   said. 

"O,  no — dat  don't  do — sumpin'  wus  bleezter  happen 
dar  las'  night." 

"Oh!"  I  said,  "I  believe  the  people  did  say  the 
Spaniards  blew  up  our  battleship,  the  Maine." 

"Didn't  I  tell  you  so?"  he  shouted.  "The  Span 
iards  blew  up  our  mane — watch  us  blow  up  dey  tails, 
an'  dat's  whut  I's  bin  pin'in'  fur — war!" 

"But  somebody  said  war  is  hell,"  I  said,  seriously. 

"Yas,  sah,"  winked  the  old  man — "hell  on  fools 
an*  mules,  an'  we's  got  bofe  uv  'em  to  spare  in  dis 


i8o  "UNCLE  WASH" 

country, "  and  he  ambled  off  to  give  the  mascot  a  half 
pint  of  pure  cream. 

The  old  man  was  right.  From  that  day  the  tide 
changed.  Among  the  many  things  which  happened 
that  year  and  which  he  told  me  were  due  to  the 
especial  influence  of  the  little  starlit  streak  of  good 
luck,  were  the  following: 

1.  The  death  of  a  book  agent  at  the  farm  gate  by 
lightning   in   July.     He  was   coming   to   collect    his 
monthly   payment   on   the  World's   Great   Orations, 
to  which,  in  an  hour  of  generosity,  the  old  man  had 
treated  himself  (so  that  they  might  all  he  read  at  his 
funeral,  he  said)  and  had  regretted  it  every  month  since. 

2.  Smallpox — a  deputy  sheriff  that  had  levied  on 
his  cow  in  January  was  down  with  it. 

3.  Dinah — lost  her  voice  from  a  bad  cold  in  August, 
and  had  not  been  able  to  talk  since! 

4.  Wheat   crop — out   of  sight. 

5.  Corn  and  oats — ditto! 

6.  Cat  fish — a  ten  pound  one  caught  by  the  old 
man  in  Bigby  Creek. 

7.  A  thunder-storm  in  July  which  rained  frogs  in 
car-load  lots.     The  old  man  said  he  plowed  them  under 
the  next  day  and  expected  a  crop  of  frog  legs  the  rest 
of  his  life. 

I  tell  it  as  he  told  it  to  me.  But  I  know  that  my 
own  good  luck  followed  thick  and  fast.  Everything 
I  touched  turned  to  the  good.  The  poems  and  stories 
I  had  been  giving  the  country  papers  for  ten  years, 
being  paid  by  them  in  puffs  and  old  papers,  came  back 
no  more  from  the  magazines,  but  checks  came  instead. 


THE  MASCOT  MULE  181 

Three  publishers  clamored  for  my  next  book.  And 
the  festive  bill-shovers,  deciding  about  that  time  that  I 
was  hopeless,  gave  up  their  job  on  back  debts  and  let 
me  rest. 

But  strangest  of  all  good-luck — and  best  of  all! 
The  next  mail  after  the  birth  of  that  mule  I  received  a 
little  note  which  I  still  keep  in  the  family  Bible: 

/  did  not  love  you,  Dr.  Fell. 

The  reason  why  I  could  not  tell. 

But  ibis  I  know  and  know  full  well — 

/  love  you  now,  dear  Dr,  Fell 


THE  GHOST  THAT  SAVED  THREE 
FLUSHES 

IT  had  been  raining  all  day  that  Christmas  week 
and  toward  night  it  settled  into  a  steady  pour, 
with  a  cold,  sudden  wind  which  now  and  then  beat 
shiveringly  the  drops  against  the  window.  Hard 
writing  all  day  begins  to  tell  on  one  toward  night — not 
physically,  so  much  as  mentally;  for  mental  creation 
calls  for  a  flow  of  nervous  force  that  leaves  the  mind 
limp  and  often  hysteric. 

It  is  different  from  all  other  work  in  the  world. 
It  is  a  wonder  the  asylums  are  not  filled  with  poets  and 
novelists. 

Surely  for  the  work  they  do,  the  world  might  stand 
the  whims  and  caprices  of  those  who  create. 

This  work  continued,  pays  you  back  for  over-strain 
ing  nature,  in  two  ways :  First,  blues ;  second,  more  blues. 

When  these  reach  the  stage  that  you  begin  to  doubt 
everything,  even  that  you  live  again,  you  must  quit. 
If  you  are  wise  you  will  go  out  in  the  field  with  the  gun. 
Then  you  will  come  home  tired  and  hungry.  A  hot 
bath  and  a  good  supper  fixes  you  about  right.  You 
are  now  ready  to  sleep  ten  hours  straight,  and  wake 
up  the  next  morning  with  dreams  in  your  brain  and 
a  glad  heart  in  a  good  world. 

But  a  man  can't  go  out  when  it's  raining — a  raw, 
cold,  December  flower-killer. 

What  possessed  Uncle  Wash  to  get  into  such  a  mood? 
Generally  he  was  funny,  but  to-night — 

(182) 


GHOST  THAT  SAVED  THREE  FLUSHES    183 

He  had  sat  in  my  library  for  ten  minutes,  studying 
the  fire  and  watching  the  steam  rise  up  from  his  damp 
clothes.  He  had  come  over  to  tell  me  that  somebody 
had  read  Booker  Washington's  new  book  to  him  and 
that  Booker  was  a  smart  nigger  with  a  long  head  "that 
wus  liable  to  be  sp'iled.  An'  er  nigger  is  easier  sp'iled 
than  fresh  fish  in  summer  time,"  he  said. 

"Now  you  kin  allers  tell  er  new  fangled  nigger," 
he  went  on  while  I  hunted  for  a  cigar;  "he  don't 
b'leeve  in  ghosts.  All  ole  niggers  do." 

"  You  surely  have  more  sense  than  that, "  I  remarked. 

"I  may  not  have  eny  sense,"  said  the  old  man 
quickly.  "Hit's  when  my  eyes  sees  er  thing  Ps  got 
sense  nufT  to  know  what  I  sees." 

"And  you  have  seen  a  ghost?"  I  asked,  half  ban- 
teringly. 

The  next  instant  I  was  sorry.  The  old  man  had 
closed  up  like  a  clam. 

"I'll  not  believe  it  now  unless  you  tell  me,"  I  said 
after  a  while:  "and  I'd  hate  to  think  you'd  begun  to 
tell  untruthful  yarns  in  your  old  age. 

That  was  enough.     The  old  man  was  on  his  mettle. 

"When  my  young  marster  wus  married,  ole  marster 
give  me  to  him.  That  wus  Marse  George  Young. 
I  heard  tell  dey  wus  sumpin'  sorten  wrong  wid  dat 
marriage,  but  I  never  seed  no  signs  uv  it  myse'f  befo' 
nor  arter.  Marse  George  wus  mighty  nigh  crazy 
erbout  er  nurr'  gal — I  knowed  dat — kase  him  and  me 
uster  go  over  dar  twice  er  week  fur  to  see  her,  an*  whut 
Marse  George  done  in  de  parlor  I  done  in  de  kitchen. 
O,  we  sho'  gin  em  er  run  for  our  money !  I  wus  soon 


1 84  "UNCLE  WASH" 

engaged  to  erbout  ha'f  uv  de  yaller  gals  on  dat  plan- 
tashun,  an'  Marse  George  wus  holdin  his  own  wid  de 
young  mistis.  She  wus  er  powerful  gal,  spirited  an' 
all  dat,  an  han'sum  es  er  picter;  but  she  wus  wild,  an' 
reckless  an'  fond  uv  men  dat  flattered  her. 

"But  jes'  fo'  dey  wus  to  be  married  dey  fell  out  er 
bout  sumpin'  an  she  married  er  rich  murchant  dat  had 
er  bushy  head  an'  wo'  sideburn  whiskers.  He  didn't 
keer  much  fur  her — too  busy  makin'  money.  Jes' 
wanted  er  han  'sum  wife. 

"I  sho'  wus  sorry  fur  her.  She  wus  er  fine  gal  an* 
orter  had  er  square  deal.  But  I  knowed  den  she  wus 
weak  as  water. 

"  Uv  course  de  pesky  little  yaller  gals  all  potted  me, 
too,  but  I  hearn  arterwards  dat  dey  hilt  er  meetin'  on 
it  an'  'sided  ef  dey  didn't  break  dey  engagement  I  wus 
gwine  to  break  all  dey  ribs! 

"O,  I  wus  pritty  sivigerus  in  dem  days,  boss,  wid  my 
right  arm.  It's  de  only  correct  instrument  for  cotin' 
wid. 

"  Dar  wus  er  mighty  sweet  an  pritty  gal  livin '  near, 
dat  Marse  George  had  been  gwine  to  see  an'  she  wus 
crazy  erbout  him  all  de  time  he  wus  in  luve  wid  de  yud- 
der  one.  Wai,  suh  de  day  Marse  George  got  his  walk- 
in'  papers  he  went  to  Miss  Susie's  house  dat  night  (dat 
wus  de  yudder  one),  an'  called  on  her.  Now  Marse 
George  orter  be  ershamed  uv  hisself,  for  he  luved  dat 
other  one,  an'  ef  he  hadn't  been  so  reckless,  dey'd 
er-made  up  and  married.  But  he  wus  reckless,  allers 
wus — an'  de  little  'oman  wus  sho'  pritty  an'  sweet  an' 
would  er  made  him  er  better  wife  dan  de  high  flyin '  one. 


GHOST  THAT  SAVED  THREE  FLUSHES    185 

"Susie/  say  Marse  George,  arter  er  while,  'don't  you 
think  it's  erbout  time  we  wus  marryin'?"  She  turned 
red  an'  den  white — for  she  loved  him  so — an'  den  she 
cried  er  little  an'  didn't  say  nuffin'  till  Marse  George 
kissed  her  an '  sed : 

"  'Nex'  week,  little  'oman — nex'  week.  I's  tired 
uv  all  de  shams  of  life  an*  I  wanter  to  settle  down/ 

"An'  dey  did. 

"Now  Marse  George  he  had  won  er  fine  farm  ater 
game  uv  cards.  It  wus  500  acres  uv  es  good  land  es  I 
ever  plowed  over.  He  called  it  Three  Flushes,  so  you 
know  how  he  won  it.  Dar  wus  three  in  de  game — 
Cap'in  Jones  an'  Judge  Peters — an'  dey  played  three 
nights  straight  without  sleep.  Dey  started  wid  dollar 
antes  an'  went  on  up  to  mules,  niggers,  cotton  an'  land. 
I  allers  thort  Marse  George  wud  win,  kase  he  tuk  coffee 
ever'time  de  yuthers  tuk  whisky.  He  kep'  cool  while 
dey  kep '  hot,  an '  er  cool  brain  is  er  poker  brain. 

"  He  b'ilt  'im  er  neat  little  home  dar,  not  er  fine  home 
lakole  marster's,  but  it  wus  comf  teble  an'  cozy,  an'  dar 
he  tuk  Miss  Susie  an'  his  niggers  an'  horses  an'  stock. 

"I  thort  sho'  dey'd  be  happy;  but  sumpin'  wus 
wrong  from  the  fus'.  Miss  Susie  wus  sweet  as  she 
cud  be,  an'  so  quiet  an'  good,  but  I  seed  she  wus 
eatin'  her  heart  out;  for  Marse  George,  try  as  he 
cud,  cudn't  git  over  pinin'  fur  de  other  one.  No 
body  ever  heard  him  say  er  word,  an'  he  give  Miss  Susie 
ever  thing  she  wanted  'cept  de  love  she  wanted  most 
uv  all.  Now  dey  ain't  but  two  things  in  life  dat's  wurth 
while — one's  wuck  and  de  other  is  love;  wid  arry  one 
uv  'em  shut  out,  it's  just  er  ha'f  life  at  de  most. 


i86  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"I  fus*  noticed  it  in  Marse  George.  He  tuk  to 
drinkin'  whisky  instead  uv  coffee  an'  he  played  reckless 
and  run  wid  wild  men.  Dis  nearly  broke  Miss  Susie's 
heart.  But  befo'  she  died — for  she  died  the  second 
year — I  seed  her  in  her  room  settin '  in  er  chair  weepin ' 
an'  combin'  out  her  long,  beautiful  hair. 

"Dat  de  plaines'  time  I  ever  seed  her,  an'  after  she 
wus  dead  I  seem  to  'member  her  dat  way. 

"She  never  crossed  Marse  George  nor  nagged  him, 
nor  complained,  an'  she  wus  sick  er  long  time  wid  fever. 
But  befo'  she  died  she  called  him  to  her,  an'  wid  tears 
in  her  eyes  an'  in  his'n  too,  he  promised  her  he'd  never 
drink  nor  gamble.  Den  she  look  lak  she  wus  happier 
den  she  ever  wus.  Marse  George,  too,  looked  lak  he 
jus'  begin  to  luve  her  good. 

"He  wus  holdin'  her  in  his  arms  when  she  died. 

"  It  all  had  er  pow'ful  effec'  on  Marse  George — an  fur 
er  year  he  quit  drinkin'.  He  give  his  houn's  away  an* 
sold  his  race  horse.  I  never  seed  er  man  es  quiet  an* 
miserable  as  he  wus. 

"  But  one  Christmas  I  notices  he  wus  brighter.  His 
ole  self  came  erg'in.  I  soon  seed  what  it  wus.  I  seed 
him  readin'  er  note  from  de  murchant's  wife.  I 
watched  him  mighty  close  for  de  nex  few  days,  for  I 
didn't  like  dat  kind  er  foolishness,  an'  I  knowed  Marse 
George  wus  in  danger  uv  ruin  ef  dat  kind  uv  thing 
started.  I  soon  had  all  de  worry  I  wanted.  She  met 
Marse  George  dat  night,  es  gay  an'  spirited  an'  es  fond 
uv  him  es  ever.  She  met  him  at  er  fox  hunt  wid  er  crowd 
uv  people— all  but  her  husban'— he  wus  too  busy  to 
think  of  her— an'  she  an'  Marse  George  got  lost  frum 


GHOST  THAT  SAVED  THREE  FLUSHES    187 

de  crowd,  but  turned  up  two  hours  afterwards.  An' 
de  horses  didn't  look  lak  dey'd  been  doin'  any  runnin'. 
An'  when  we  got  home  dat  night  Marse  George  wus 
drinkin'.  It  mighty  nigh  killed  me  to  see  him  throw 
hisse'f  erway. 

"  He  wus  gay  eser  boy  when  I  tuck  dehorses,an '  he  said : 

"  'Wash,  we've  had  er  great  run  to-night.  I  begin 
to  feel  like  myse'f  er'gin. ' 

"  'Marse  George,'  say  I,  'I  hopes  you  will  pardon 
me  if  I  overstep  de  bounds  uv  yo'  sarvent,  but  ain't 
you  playin'  wid  fiah,  Marse  George'? 

"  'Hold  yo  tongue,  an'  tend  to  yo'  own  bisness,' 
say  he.  'Don't  yo'  ever  give  me  eny  advise  erg'in.' 

"  'It  beca'se  I  wus  thinkin'  uv  Miss  Susie,  Marse 
George,'  seys  I. 

"He  turned  an'  walked  in. 

"Wai  sah,  dar  wus  more  balls,  an'  parties,  an'  meet- 
in 'suv  all  kinds.  Ever  whur  I  turned  dat  'oman  'ud 
bob  up  gay  an'  happy,  an'  headed  fur  Marse  George. 
She'd  drive  by  our  place  an'  talk  to  him  for  hours  in  de 
hammock  under  de  trees.  She  danced  wid  him  at  de 
balls,  she  hunted  wid  him  an'  lived  wid  him  till  ever' 
body  'cept  her  husban '  seed  dey  wus  in  love  wid  each 
other.  He  jes'  kept  on  sellin'  cotton  an'  sich,  an' 
settin'  up  to  his  books  instead  uv  his  wife. 

"De  hold  she  had  on  Marse  George  wus  lak  Delilah. 
He  drunk  more,  talked  more  an'  got  more  recklesser. 
He  gin  er  stag  party,  an'  de  men  all  gambled  at  cards. 
Dey  played  all  night,  an'  only  two  uv  'em  wus  sober 
enuff  to  come  to  de  breakfas'  table;  an'  Marse  George 
warn't  one  uv  'em! 


1 88  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"It  sho'  nearly  brake  my  heart,  but  I  tuck  keer  of 
ever  thing  an'  pushed  de  farmin',  an'  made  de  crap 
es  big  es  ever. 

"It  wus  late  one  evenin'  when  I  wus  cuttin'  hay  in 
de  river  meadow.  De  sun  wus  set  an'  twilight  wus 
gatherin'  over  de  hills.  I  made  de  han's  shoulder  up 
dere  sythes  an'  start  to  de  cabin.  I  tuck  er  nigh  cut  to 
get  to  de  barn  quicker  an'  de  res',  fur  I  had  all  de 
feedin'  to  do.  I  stopped  in  de  orcha'd  by  de  spring 
house  to  git  er  drink  uv  water,  fur  I  wus  thirsty,  fur 
it  had  been  er  hot  day  in  de  hay  field.  I  wus  down 
under  de  bluff  by  de  spring  when  I  heerd  voices  fur 
above  me  under  de  June  apple  tree — fur  de  apples 
wus  ripe.  I  heard  er  saddle  horse  stompin'  nigh,  an' 
I  looked  an*  seed  er  lady's  saddle  mare  hitched  nigh. 
I  didn't  intend  to  hear  hit,  but  I  heard  Marse  George 
say: 

'You  were  mine  at  fust — mine,  I  tell  you  befo'  you 
wus  ever  his/ 

"I  heerd  her  sorter  sigh,  an'  dey  wus  silent. 

'You  don't  deserve  me — the  way  you  acted,  fur 
you  knowed  I  luved  you  then  as  I  do  now/  she  said 
after  while. 

"  I  heard  Marse  George  kiss  her. 

To-night/  he  say,  Ts  gwiner  to  claim  you. 
We'll  go  away — you  an'  me — don't  ker  whut  de 
wurl',  yu'r  husban'  or  de  devil  say.  You  are  mine — 
mine! 

"  I  saw  him  take  her  in  his  arms  an'  dey  stood,  her 
head  on  his  shoulder.  I  heurd  'em  make  arrangements 
to  run  off  dat  night.  Dey  wus  to  take  de  kerrige  at 


GHOST  THAT  SAVED  THREE  FLUSHES     189 

two  o'clock,  he  wus  to  drive  to  her  home.  After  dat 
he  say,  'We'll  travel  er  year  in  er  furrin  country;  by  dat 
time  he'll  have  er  divorce  fur  he  don't  love  you  eny  way, 
nor  you — you  don't  love  him? 

"  'No,  no,  darlin','  she  said,  'I  love  only  you/ 

"I  slipped  out  to  de  barn.  I  wus  shakin'  all  over. 
'Good  God/  say  I,  'Marse  George  is  ruined!' 

"I  never  wus  so  miser'ble  in  my  life.  I  seed  her 
ride  off  in  de  twilight,  an'  den  Marse  George  come  to 
de  barn  sorter  hummin'  er  ole  love  song. 

'Wash,'  say  he,  Tse  gwinter  have  Captain  Jones 
an'  Judge  Peters  to  supper  to-night.  You  stay  up  an* 
have  de  kerrige  ready.  I  may  wanter  go  off  on  er 
little  trip.' 

"Den  he  tole  me  whut  to  do  whilst  he  wus  gone,  an' 
how  to  plant  ever  field.  I  listened  to  him  an'  I  didn't 
sey  er  thing,  but  my  heart  wus  nigh  brakin',  fur  I 
luved  Marse  George  an'  I  knowed  he  had  er  great  big 
heart,  ef  he  wus  reckless. 

"An'  dat  sot  me  to  thinkin'  uv  po'  little  dead  Miss 
Susie.  For  I  loved  her  best  uv  all.  It  wus  nearly 
night  when  I  went  into  de  setting  room  to  carry  in  de 
fresh  water.  The  lamp  wus  turned  low,  an'  de  room 
was  shadowy  in  de  pale  light.  All  wus  still,  an'  I 
passes  Miss  Susie's  chair,  where  she  allers  set.  I 
seemed  to  miss  her  mo'  an'  mo'.  I  had  put  de  water 
down  an'  wus  turnin'  to  go  out,  when  I  felt  lak  some 
body  wus  in  de  room  besides  myself.  I  had  hearn  no 
foot -steps,  but  I  jes'  felt  dar  wus  anurr  presence  dar 
besides  me.  I  looked  aroun'  fur  er  minute.  I  didn't 
know  w'ether  I  wus  livin'  or  dead.  Creepin'  chills 


190  "UNCLE  WASH" 

run  up  my  back  an'  de  blud  jes'  froze  in  my  heart,  fur 
dar  sot  Miss  Susie  in  her  chair,  combing  her  long  hair 
jes'  lak  she  uster  do  befo'  she  died.  De  lamp  blazed 
up  an'  lit  up  de  room,  an  es  de  light  flashed  out  it  lit 
up  her  face  an'  eyes  wid  er  gleam  dat  showed  de  tears 
dar,  jes'  es  I  seed  her  cry  befo'.  She  never  looked  at 
me,  but  looked  erway  off,  an'  she  wus  es  nachul  es  er 
livin'  picture.  I  tried  to  move,  but  seemed  to  be 
froze  to  de  'arth. 

'  'Miss  Susie,  O,  Miss  Susie,'  I  cried,  an'  when  I 
looked  ag'in  she  wus  gone. 

"When  I  got  so  I  cud  walk,  I  started  out  an'  met 
Marse  George  in  de  hall.  I  lackter  run  over  him,  es 
I  wus  shakin'  wid  er  chill. 

'Whut's  de  matter  with  you?'  he  say,  sorter 
sharp  lak. 

"  'Marse  George,'  I  sed,  'Marse  George,  I  jes'  seed 
Miss  Susie  in  dar  as  nachul  es  life' — but  I  cudn't  sey 
no  mo' —  I  sot  down  on  the  flo'  in  er  dead  fit.  I  heard 
him  call  de  house  gal  for  to  bring  de  brandy  an'  he 
give  it  to  me  stiff. 

'Take  dat,'  sez  he,  'Wash,  your  nerves  is  out 
uv  fix,  an'  you  is  de  victim  uv  er  hallucinashun,'  seys 
he.  'You  ain't  seen  eny  thing  in  dat  room.' 

"  But  I  cud  see  he  wus  puzzled  an'  worried. 

"I  got  up  an'  went  out.  I  didn't  b'leeve  my  own 
senses.  I  felt  cold  an'  light  erbout  my  head.  I'd 
never  b'leeved  in  sich  things,  an'  de  mo'  Marse  George 
talked  to  me  de  lesser  I  b'leeved  I'd  seed  it. 

"Sides,  de  brandy  doped  me,  an'  it's  er  pow'ful  good 
thing  ter  make  er  man  see  things  es  dey  ain't. 


GHOST  THAT  SAVED  THREE  FLUSHES     191 

"I  jes'  tole  myse'f  I'd  had  er  light-headed  spell  an' 
seed  things  dat  warn't  dar. 

"  Arter  er  while  de  Capt'in  an'  de  Judge  come  in,  de 
house  wus  lit  up,  an'  er  good  supper  served.  Supper 
over,  I  brought  out  de  whisky  an'  de  ole  fashion  loaf 
sugar,  big  es  er  cake,  an'  de  gentlemen  went  to  drinkin' 
an'  playin'. 

"Marse  George  wus  reckless  an'  bet  nigger  after 
nigger.  Sometimes  he  lost  an'  den  he  won.  But  luck 
sot  in  ag'in  him  an'  he  lost  ever  time.  He  put  up  de 
cotton  an  hit  went. 

"I  sot  behind  him  watchin'  de  game.  Dey  had 
played  on  till  nigh  midnight.  Marse  George  had  tole 
dem  dat  at  midnight  he  wud  quit,  es  he  had  er 
engagement  later.  De  pot  had  growed  to  be  er  big 
thing.  Capt'n  Jones  he  had  up  ten  thousand  in 
warehouse  receets,  an'  Judge  he  had  up  de  coin  in  big 
rolls.  Marse  George  had  lost  steady,  an'  he  say, 
'Gemmen,  I'll  put  up  de  farm  in  dat  pot,  Ef  I  lose  it's 
alright,  for  I  don't  mind  telling  you  gemmen  dat  Ps 
going  erway  for  er  year,  to-night,  maybe  I'll  come 
back— maybe  I'll  never  come/ 

"  'Marse  George  I  say,  'don't — for  Gawd's  sake 
don't  put  up  de  farm.' 

"  He  turned  on  me  an'  cussed  me.  I  slipped  down 
behind  his  chair,  my  face  in  my  hands,  fur  I  felt  lak 
he  wus  lost. 

"  'Will  you  take  de  farm  in  at  twenty  thousand 
dollars?'  he  say.  'Ef  so,  I'll  now  play  you  to  er  stand 
still/ 

"De  Judge  nodded  an'  shuffled  an'  delt  de  cards. 


192  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"De  light  begun  to  burn  low.  Den  I  smelt  in  dat 
room  dat  cur'is  smell  erg'in  es  frum  de  dead — jes'  es 
I  smelt  dat  evenin';  an'  I  felt  de  same  feelin'  lak 
somebody  wus  in  de  room.  I  wus  feared  to  look  up. 
I  seed  Marse  George  an'  de  others  reach  out  to  take 
up  de  cards  an'  I  knowed  on  dat  han'  hung  me  an  dat 
fine  farm. 

"But  Marse  George  never  touched  his,  fur  dar  in 
dat  same  chair  sot  Miss  Susie  combin'  her  hair,  an'  de 
lamp  lighted  up  her  eyes  an'  de  tears  wus  dar. 

"  I  grabbed  Marse  George  shoulder  and  p'inted. 

"  He  gins  one  look  an'  I  seed  the  blood  freeze  in  his 
face.  His  hand  re'ching  out  for  de  cards  jes'  lay  still 
an'  par'lyzed. 

'What  in  de  hell,  Young,  is  de  matter  wid  you?' 
sed  the  Judge,  lookin'  at  'em  plumb  'stounded. 

"Den  de  both  turned  an'  looked  wher'  dey  seed 
Marse  George  lookin'. 

"  But  dey  didn't  seem  to  understan',  an'  both  uv  'em 
riz  quick  frum  dey  seats,  an'  de  Judge  bowed  an'  sez: 

"  'Pardon  me,  madam,  1  didn't  kno'  dar  wus  er  lady 
in  de  house.' 

"Marse  George  had  fell  back  in  his  chair. 

"An'  den  Miss  Susie  riz  up  an'  walked  towards  de 
door,  an'  at  de  door  she  turned  an'  looked  at  Marse 
George  for  er  second  so  sad  it  melted  my  heart. 

"Wid  dat  she  vanished  an'  yit  de  door  was  still  shet. 

"  Not  er  man  spoke  er  word  nor  moved  for  er  moment. 
I  seed  de  Judge  rub  his  forehead  lak  he  wondering  ef 
he  dreamed,  an'  de  Capt'in  stood  pale  an'  shakin', 
reachin'  for  de  whisky.  At  las'  de  Judge  sed: 


GHOST  THAT  SAVED  THREE  FLUSHES    193 

"  'My  God,  Young,  who  was  that  woman  an*  where 
did  she  go  to?' 

"  That/  sez  Marse  George,  'wus  my  wife — she  died 
er  year  ago.' 

"  He  riz  up  so  shaky — I  had  to  hold  him.  'Gemmen, 
shall  we  finish  the  game?  I  fear  I  am  going  to  faint.' 

"  'Wash,'  he  says,  when  he  seed  de  other  two  lookin' 
fur  dey  hats,  'bring  'round  the  kerrige  an'  shut  up  this 
house.'  Gemmen,  we  will  ride.  I  am  goin'  out  West 
wid  this  boy  an'  take  er  hunt.  I've  been  all  kinds  uv  er 
fool  an'  er  madman,  er  reprobate  an'  er  breaker  uv 
solemn  vows  to  er  dying  wife,  But  I'm  sane  erg'in.' 

"Hewus,  an'  de  yudder  'oman  never  seed  'im  ergin. 
He  died  on  de  firin'  line  at  Shiloh,  sah,  leadin'  his 
regiment." 


18 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  COON 


year  ole  Marster  went  up  to  Philadelphy, 
whar  er  ship  load  uv  niggers  had  been  shipped  in, 
an*  focht  back  er  half  dozen  likely  bucks  an'  wenches 
fresh  frum  Afiker.  We  had  to  do  this  ever  now  an' 
then  because  de  Ian'  wus  cleared  so  much  faster  dan 
we  cud  till  it  an'  ole  Marster  wus  allers  buyin'  mo'  Ian* 
than  we  cud  raise  niggers  to  till  it.  Now  there  is  sev'ral 
little  pints  about  er  nigger  fresh  frum  Afiker  dat  you 
hafter  watch,  chief  uv  which  is  his  smell.  Fur  ten  years 
or  mo'  dese  pints  sticks  an'  often  ain't  bred  outen  dem 
untwell  de  nex'  jinerashun.  One  wus  to  keep  'em 
outen  hoo-doo  tricks  an'  wash  'em  in  de  creek  at  least 
once  er  month;  de  other  wus  to  get  'em  to  eat  cooked 
vittles,  an'  de  las'  wus  to  sew  up  dey  clothes  on  'em  so 
dey  cudn't  git  out  when  the  sun  shone  hot.  I's  seen 
hundreds  an'  hundreds  uv  'em  in  my  life,  lived  on  de 
same  place  wid  'em,  an'  dese  have  allers  been  de  pints 
I's  noticed  it  wus  de  hardes'  to  break  'em  in  for  de 
fus'  lesson  uv  civerlizashun. 

"And  it  wus  er  hard  thing  to  get  'em  to  do  it.  Ever' 
one  fetched  his  little  gawds  erlong  wid  him.  Dese  little 
gawfls  wus  little  stick  men  —  wal,  you  cudn't  call  'em 
much  mor'n  sticks,  wid  heads  cyarved  on  'em  an'  wore 
slick  an'  greasy  frum  bein'  handed  down  for  hundreds 
uv  years  from  one  nigger  to  er  nurr. 

"  I  called  dese  little  things  Jacks.  I  thort  that  'ud 
suit  'em  as  well  as  enything. 

(194) 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  COON  195 

"An*  ever  nigger  had  his  Jack,  which  he  worshipped, 
and  which  he  thort  told  him  everthing  dat  'ud  come 
to  pass. 

"An'  don't  you  think  dey  wan't  foolish  'bout  dem 
little  Jacks! 

"  I  wus  overseer  fur  ole  Marster  an'  had  charge  uv  all 
them  Afiker  niggers  an'  I  cum  mighty  nigh  losin'  my 
life  onct  by  gittin'  between  one  uv  dem  big,  fierce 
savage  niggers  an'  his  r'ligun,  which  wus  his  Jack. 
This  nigger  used  to  git  his  Jack  up  ever  mornin'  bright 
an'  early,  an'  sich  prayin'  an'  carryin'  on  wid  dat  Jack 
you  never  seed.  Dis  nigger  wus  named  Skibo,  an'  he'd 
rastle  wid  his  Jack  in  prayer  mornin',  noon  an'  night. 
He  sed  Jack  kep  him  frum  all  harm,  dat  he  kep  snakes 
frum  bitin'  him  in  de  new  groun',  an'  fevers  frum 
ketchin'  him  in  de  swamp,  an'  ghostes  frum  chasin' 
him  at  night,  an'  er  blue-gum  nigger  cudn't  pizen  him 
ef  he  bit  him  ef  he  made  Jack  tech  de  spot.  An'  Jack 
even  told  him  if  his  wife  wus  faithful  or  not,  which  es 
they  generally  wan't,  shows  whut  er  fool  eny  nigger 
is  dat  ever  thinks  he  needs  er  Jack  on  dat  pint ! 

"Wai,  as  I  sed,  dis  Jack  told  Skibo  everthing  'cept 
how  to  bathe  onct  er  month,  how  to  keep  his  shirt  on 
widout  tackin'  it  to  his  years  an'  how  to  wuck  in  de 
cotton  an'  cohn  fiel'. 

"An'  dem  wus  de  things  I  wanted  Jack  to  post  him 
on  most  pintedly. 

"When  the  sun  'ud  git  hot  Skibo  'ud  throw  off 
tumble.  I'd  find  him  ever  time  my  back  wus  turned 
havin'  er  bad  case  uv  riligun  in  eny  shady  place  he 
cu'd  pull  out  his  Jack,  fur  he  allers  carried  de  thing 


196  "UNCLE  WASH" 

tied  up  in  er  eel  skin  round  his  neck.  So  one  day  when 
I  caught  him  for  de  thud  time  in  one  mornin'  gwine 
into  er  conference  wid  Jack  es  to  whether  his  wife  wus 
thinkin'  uv  him  dat  minute  or  er  nurr  nigger  dat  hader 
conjure  made  up  uv  er  turkledove's  egg  an'  er  frog's  foot 
an'  put  hit  under  his  do'  step  to  wean  erway  his  wife's 
'flectuns,  I  gin  him  er  kick  in  his  prayin'  end,  snatched 
his  Jack  frum  round  his  neck  an'  flung  de  thing  into 
de  creek. 

"Den  I  seed  whut  er  mistake  I'd  made  to  try  to  get 
between  er  fool  an'  his  r'ligun!  He  come  at  me  lak 
er  gorilla  uv  de  woods,  an'  de  only  thing  dat  saved 
my  life  wus  dat  de  staff  uv  my  bull  whip  loaded  wid 
nigh  er  pound  uv  lead  wus  er  little  further  in  de  reach 
dan  his  arm  wid  er  knife  in  it.  Befo'  he  come  to  I 
shackled  his  right  arm  to  his  leg,  went  into  de  creek, 
got  de  leetle  ole  thing  an'  put  it  on  his  breast. 

"When  he  came  to  an'  seed  it  you  cud  'a  heard  him 
laughing  a  mile.  He  thort  Jack  had  come  out  uv  de 
creek  an'  saved  his  life! 

"After  dat  I  seed  I  had  to  kill  him  ef  I  separated 
him  from  his  r'ligun,  an*  es  he  cost  ole  Marster  five 
hundred  dollars,  I  done  de  bes'  I  cu'd. 

"Wai,  dat  nigger  kep  on  till  he  got  de  whole 
plantashun,  even  ole  Marster,  to  bleevin'  in  his  Jack. 
He  had  Jack  perdictin'  two  or  three  things  dat  sho  did 
come  to  pass.  He  sed  er  month  erhead  dat  ole  Shobo, 
de  witch  nigger,  'ud  die  on  er  certain  day;  an'  on  dat  day 
ole  Shobo  laid  down  an'  died!  I  allers  thort  he  wus 
skeered  to  death,  but  it  sho'  fixed  Jack  es  er  proffit 
ermong  de  niggers. 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  COON  197 

"The  nex'  shot  he  made  wus  dat  in  the  spring  of  '42 
dar  wus  gwinter  be  er  killin'  frost  de  last  week  in  May 
an'  so  hep  me  Gawdef  it  didn't  come  an'  killed  cotton 
hoe  high  an*  corn  up  to  yo'  knees.  Dat  made  me  so 
mad  that  I  begged  Marster  to  let  me  sick  de  blood 
hounds  on  him  an'  run  him  into  the  swamp.  But  he 
wudn't — ole  Marster  wus  beginnin'  to  bleeve  in  him 
hisself.  Dar  is  superstishun  in  ever  man  dat  ever  lived 
an'  dat  fool  savage  an'  his  Jack  wus  beginnin'  to  tech 
ole  Marster's. 

"One  mornin'  he  come  to  old  Marster  in  er  tumble 
hurry  an'  told  him  he  jes  had  to  speak  to  him.  By 
dat  he  cud  talk  sorter  like  sumpin  nurr,  an'  he  got 
down  on  his  knees  and  begged  ole  Marser  to  move 
outen  de  little  office  he  slept  in  nigh  de  big  house 
befo'  night.  Ole  Marster  laughed  at  him  an'  tole  him 
to  go  to  wuck.  He  went  beggin'  an'  then  I  gin  him 
er  lickin'  fur  not  wuckin',  but  he  run  back  to  de  house 
an'  got  on  his  knees  er'gin  an'  begged  ole  Marster  not 
to  sleep  in  de  little  room  dat  night,  dat  Jack  told  him 
sumpin  tumble  gwinter  happen  ef  he  did.  Ole  Marster 
tried  to  kick  him  away,  but  he  hung  on  to  ole  Marster's 
han'  kissin'  it  an'  beggin'  till  ole  Marster  promised. 

"Dat  wus  de  night  uv  de  big  cyclone  dat  struck 
de  little  office  fust  and  swept  it  erway  an'  fo'  nigger 
cabins,  killin'  three  niggers.  Ole  Marster  wus  reddy 
then  to  swar'  by  him. 

"Then  he  played  er  trick  on  ole  Marster.  One  night 
he  stole  ole  Marster's  saddle  hoss  out  an'  hid  him  in 
de  woods.  De  nex'  day  we  scoured  de  country 
boss-back  an'  erfoot,  but  no  hoss. 


198  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"Marster  called  on  Skibo  an*  Skibo  set  up  his  Jack. 
Fust  he  went  into  er  trance — Jack  wouldn't  talk  to  him 
less  he  wus  in  er  trance,  an'  when  he  wakes  he  goes 
straight  to  de  swamp  where  he  hid  de  hoss  and  rides 
home. 

"  By  dis  time  it  had  gone  all  over  de  country,  an' 
Marster  sed  he'd  bet  his  farm  he  had  er  'hoodoo  nigger 
dat  could  tell  anything.  He  wouldn't  let  Skibo 
wuck  at  all ;  he  fed  him  on  de  fat  uv  de  land,  and  let 
him  marry  er  wife  on  ever  plantashun  erroun'  dar  an' 
he  even  tuck  Ole  Pitt's  young  wife  erway  frum  him 
an'  gin  her  to  dat  Skibo. 

"  An'  de  more  ole  Marster  drunk  the  mo'  he  bragged 
on  Skibo. 

"De  fust  thing  I  knowed  (I  heurd  it  frum  nigger 
mouth)  ole  Marster  and  Majah  Sellers,  his  nabur,  had 
made  er  big  bet.  Hit  wus  the  talk  of  the  county.  Ole 
Marster  bet  ten  uv  his  niggers  an'  er  thousan'  dollars 
erg'in  de  same  uv  Majah  Sellers  dat  de  Majah  cud 
put  up  anything,  sight-under-seen,  enywhar,  day 
or  night,  an'  Skibo  would  tell  whut  it  wus.  De 
Majah  tuck  it  up  an'  Sat'day  nex'  afternoon  wus  to  be 
de  test,  it  bein'  er  half  holiday  fur  us  all. 

"Wai,  de  whole  county  turned  out  an'  dat  Sat'day 
we  went  in  er  body  over  to  Majah  Sellers,  ole  Marster 
ridin'  in  frunt  wid  Skibo  an'  his  Jack. 

"De  yard  uv  Majah  Sellers  wus  full  uv  naburs  an' 
niggers  an'  we  wus  all  drawed  up  in  er  line  an'  de  ten 
niggers  on  each  side  put  up  in  er  bunch  an'  de  money 
in  de  stakeholder's  hands. 

"  I  looked  an'  I  seed  nothin'  in  de  open  place  whar 


THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  COON  199 

dc  test  wus  to  be  made  but  er  big  iron  pot  turned  over, 
an'  den  I  lamed  dat  de  thing  dat  Skibo  wus  to  tell 
uv  wus  under  dat  pot,  an'  he  had  jes  one  guess  at  it. 

"Majah  Sellers  wus  laughin'  an'  mighty  pleased  at 
de  chance  uv  winnin'  ten  niggers  an'  er  thousan' 
dollars,  an'  Marster  jes  stalked  erroun'  an'  swore  he 
already  had  de  Majah's  niggers  an'  money.  When 
de  hour  come  an'  everything  wus  ready  an'  everbody 
was  dar,  Marster  walked  to  de  open  place  wid  Major 
Sellers  an'  de  stakeholder  who  wus  de  referee,  an' 
sed: 

'Come,  Skibo,  git  down  on  de  groun',  and  rastle 
wid  yo'  Jack  an'  tell  us  what's  under  dat  pot/ 

"Skibo  got  down,  but  I  don't  know  why  it  wus,  he 
cudn't  go  into  his  trance.  Some  sed  de  big  crowd 
frustrated  him;  some  sed  Jack  wouldn't  wuck  on  er 
ungodly  bet,  and  some  sed  de  skill  had  left  Skibo. 
Anyway,  he  sot  an'  foamed  at  de  mouth  an'  beat  his 
breast  an'  set  Jack  up  befo'  an'  behind  an'  sideways 
an'  on  his  back  an'  on  his  belly,  but  it  wus  no  go,  an' 
Marster  cud  see  it  plainer  than  enybody. 

"Five  minutes — ten  minutes — er  half  hour  passed, 

an'  still  Skibo  foamed  an'  beat  his  breast  an'  looked 

like  er  whipped  dog,  an'  Marster  stood  pale  an'  worried. 

1  'Come,'  sed  de   referee,  'time's  up;  what's  under 

dat  pot,  nigger ." 

"An' den  Skibo  'beat  at  his  game  an'  wantin'  to  die, 
fell  on  his  knees  befo'  de  man,  raised  his  han's  to 
heaben,  put  his  mouth  in  de  dust  an'  sed: 

"  ' Buckra — Buckra — you  done  got  de  ole  coon  at 
last!' 


200  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"Majah  Sellers  turned  pale.  His  laugh  died  on  his 
face  as  he  turned  to  ole  Marster  and  sed: 

'By  Gawd,  he  is  right — it's  er  coon  we  caught  and 
put  under  dat  pot  last  night.  Take  de  niggers  an'  de 
money.' 

"  De  referee  lifted  de  pot  and  out  come  Mister  Coon. 
We  raised  er  shout  and  carried  Skibo  back  home  on 
our  shoulders. 

"An'  frum  dat  day  dey  have  called  all  black 
niggers  coons." 


THE  NERVOUS  GOATS* 

"I  NEVER  had  much  use  fur  goats/'  said  Uncle 
1  Wash  the  other  night,  "an  I  got  less  use  fur  'em 
now  dan  ever.  Dey  may  be  es  good  to  eat  es  sheep  to 
some  people,  but  when  I  hears  er  man  say  dat,  ef  he's 
white,  I  looks  fur  his  head  to  be  all  cymling  and  his 
feets  all  giblets,  an'  ef  he's  black  I  looks  fur  blue  gums 
an*  wropped  hair.  Ever'  now  an'  den,  dey  gits  up  er 
goat  craze  in  de  South  an'  dese  city  men  whut  edits 
farm  papers  in  cities  tells  whut  er  pow'ful  lot  uv  money 
dey  is  in  goats.  After  tellin'  how  dey  eats  up  ever'- 
thing  nuthin'  else  will  tetch — not  even  barrin'  er 
carry  on  cro' — an'  can  live  an'  prosper  on  er  dry  spot 
so  nigh  de  wicked  place  dat  nuthin'  else  cu'd  live  dere 
wid  col'  feet  unless  dey  walked  on  stilts,  dey  den  pro 
ceeds  to  tell  how  fast  dey  can  prop-er-gait,  which  is  er 
big  word  dey  uses  to  tell  how  soon  an'  nachully  er  little 
sissy  kid  goat  gits  to  be  er  nanny. 

"It  ain't  often  I  drops  into  poetry,  but  heah  is  de 
way  I  figures  it  out: 

Two  little  goatses,  out  in  de  sno' 
Dey  gits  married  an'  den  dar  is  fo*. 
Fo'  little  goatses  longin'  to  mate, 
Bare  is  de  larder,  but  soon  dar  is  eight. 

*When  this  story  was  published  in  a  magazine  it  brought  many  letters 
asking  if  there  were,  in  fact,  such  goats  as  described  by  Old  Wash.  The 
story  is  true  and  these  peculiar  goats,  called  Nervous  Goats,  are  well  known 
in  middle  Tennessee.  They  have  been  the  subject  of  much  scientific  inves 
tigation.  This  incident  happened  to  the  flock  owned  by  Mr.  Walter  Farmer, 
Nashville,  Tennessee. 

(201) 


202  "UNCLE  WASH" 

Eight  little  goatses,  weeds,  an'  no  mo'— 
Weeds  is  for  true  love  an'  now  twenty-fo'. 
Twenty-fo'  goatses  climbin'  de  gate, 
Ever'whar  dey  oughtn't  be — now  eighty-eight. 
Eighty-eight  goatses,  all  in  de  corn, 
Still  studyin'  'rithmetic — two  hundred's  born. 
Two  hundred  goatses  on  house  top  an'  tree — 
Dey  drops  six  hundred  by  de  rule  uv  three! 
Six  hundred  goatses,  locustin'  de  land, 
Living  on  lizard,  love-knots  an'  sand, 
But  sand  is  deir  manna — dey  marry  ag'in, 
Now  sixteen  million,  nine  hundred  an'  ten! 

"Did  you  urver  notice,  Marse  John,  de  tumble  hard 
slam  de  Bible  gives  de  goatses?  An'  when  de  Good 
Book  tags  er  thing  it's  dar  fur  all  eternity  an'  warranted 
not  to  fade.  Uv  all  de  animules  in  de  ark,  snakes  an' 
goatses  is  de  only  things  dat  is  under  de  ban.  You 
know  whut  de  snake  done — tempted  Eve,  an'  de  rest 
uv  us  been  stayin'  in  after  skule  ever  sense  an'  takin' 
our  spankin'.  But  de  way  it  throwed  off  on  de  goatses 
wus  wussur  still,  fur  it  laid  ever'  low-down  white- 
livered  thing  dat  happened  on  de  goatses.  Whenever 
er  ole  Jew  had  done  sumpin'  specially  low  down  an' 
wanted  to  lie  out  uv  it  hisse'f,  he'd  rub  asserfeterty 
an'  gypsy  juice  on  some  goat  an'  start  him  th'oo  de 
wilderness.  Dey  call  him  er  scapegoat  because  dey 
thought  he  orter  be  thankful  to  'scape  wid  his  life, 
seein'  he  kerried  so  many  other  fo'kses  sins  on  his  back. 

"Oh,  you  kin  jes'  bet  er  man  gits  whut  he  sows  in 
dis  woiT. 


THE  NERVOUS  GOATS  203 

"Ole  Abraham  started  de  thing  an'  all  de  others 
kep'  it  up  an'  all  th'oo  de  Good  Book  de  sins  uv  de 
world  is  laid  on  goatses.  Dey  even  studied  it  out  fur 
de  Jedgment  day  when  dar'll  be  er  big  separashun  uv 
de  sheep  an'  de  goatses,  an'  all  sinners  will  be  turned 
into  goatses.  Dis  allers  struck  me  es  correct,  fur  dere 
is  jes'  erbout  dat  much  difference  'twixt  er  game,  ole, 
naughty,  bad-smellin'  sinner  an'  er  weak,  no'count, 
sissy,  bab-bab,  goody-goody! 

"An'  it's  all  in  favor  uv  de  goat ! 

"  Es  fur  me,  give  me  er  goat  over  er  sheep  ever'  time. 
Er  goat  smells  bad  to  some  fo'ks,  but  he'll  hustle  fur  his 
own,  is  dead  game,  don't  complain,  'tends  to  his  own 
business,  ain't  stuck  up  an'  is  er  pow'ful  ladies'  man. 
You  nurver  heah  uv  er  goat-killin'  dog — no,  sah,  but 
I's  seed  er  many  er  dog-killin'  goat.  An'  de  best  way 
to  save  er  flock  uv  cowardly  sheeps  is  to  put  er  few  billies 
in  ermongst  'em.  But  er  sheep— de  thing  we  Christyuns 
is  picked  out  es  emblem  uv  all  dat's  good  an'  holy, 
Marse  John,  it's  er  shame!  He's  er  meek-faced,  flop- 
yeared  fool,  so  silly  he'll  jump  into  er  bottomless  pit  ef 
his  nigh  neighbor  happen  to  fall  in,  an'  so  cowardly 
any  yaller  cur  can  chase  an'  kill  de  whole  flock.  Whilst 
his  big  horns  an'  stiff  neck  is  puttin'  up  er  bold  game 
uv  bluff,  his  slinkin'  limber  tail,  floppin'  betwixt  his 
legs,  is  doin'  all  it  can  to  lie  out  uv  it !  Dey  ain't  got 
sense  enuff  to  keep  er  crow  offen  deir  babes  when  born, 
dey  hunts  fur  all  de  soft  spots  in  de  pasture  an'  dey 
quits  to  anything  dat  gits  er  good  holt  on  dey  wool. 
Don't  put  up  no  lamb  on  my  tomb  when  I's  gone, 
Marse  John.  Ef  I's  got  to  be  pictured  an'  disgraced 


204  "UNCLE  WASH" 

es  er  animule  an'  er  nachur  faker  after  I's  dead  an'  it's 
er  ch'ice  'twixt  de  goat  an'  de  sheep,  carve  fur  Uncle 
Wash  er  game  ole  goat,  wise  unto  salvershun,  keepin' 
his  own  council,  speakin'  no  evil,  stickin'  to  de  middle  uv 
de  road — er  good  ole  prop-er-gaitin'  populite,  whiskers 
an'  all! 

"Yassah! 

"  But  I  started  out  to  tell  erbout  dem  nervus  goatses. 
I  lives  down  nigh  Marse  Walter,  an'  he's  got  er  flock 
uv  dem  goats,  dat  run  in  de  pasture  wid  de  fine  mares. 
You  know  brood  mares  nurver  git  sick  ef  er  goat  stays 
ermong  'em,  fur  de  smell  uv  de  goat  is  so  servigrus,  dat 
whenever  er  microbe  uv  eny  breed  gits  er  good  whiff  uv 
it,  he  des'  gasps  an'  smiles  an'  dies,  as  de  poet  sez  uv  de 
hero  soljer.  An'  so  Marse  Walter  he  keeps  dem  goats 
wid  his  mares,  an'  do'  he  'low  us  to  go  th'oo  eny  other 
part  uv  de  farm,  he  don't  'low  nobody  to  make  er 
common  passway  th'oo  de  paddock.  But  de  other 
Sunday  es  I  went  to  preachin'  I  wus  late,  an'  thinkin' 
he  wouldn't  keer  dis  time  I  tuck  er  short  cut  th'oo  de 
paddock.  I  seed  de  flock  uv  goats  an'  de  mares  an' 
colts  but  I  wuz  so  busy  wuckin'  out  my  sermon,  de 
tex'  of  which  was,  'And  he  separated  de  sheep  frum 
de  goats,'  dat  I  run  over  er  kid  'sleep  in  de  grass  befo' 
I  seed  it.  'Bah-bab,'  sez  de  kid,  jumpin'  up  so  sudden 
'twixt  my  legs  dat  I  jumped  two  feet  offen  de 
groun'.  Den  I  gin  him  er  kick  when  I  hit  de  yearth, 
clap  my  hands  to  make  him  run  an'  sed,  'Bab-babt 
yo'se'fl' 

"Wid  dat  ever'  goat  dar  started  to  run,  but  jes' 
hollered  bab-bab  an'  drapped  dead! 


THE  NERVOUS  GOATS  205 

"An*  when  I  seed  whut  I'd  done  I  mighty  nigh  done 
it  myse'f. 

"  I  started  on  er  run  fur  de  fence,  but  looked  back 
an'  de  groun'  wus  jes'  kivered  wid  goats  kickin'  an' 
stiflfenin'  out  an'  dyin'.  I  'spected  to  see  de  mares 
an'  colts  tumble  nex'  so  I  makes  er  break  over  de  fence 
an'  over  de  hills  back  home. 

"No  mo'  sermon  fur  me  dat  day.  I'd  seed  all  I 
wanted  to  see  erbout  goatses,  unless  it  wus  how  to  raise 
'em  frum  de  dead. 

"  I  kep'  hid  out  all  day,  wonderin'  ef  enybody  seed 
me.  All  night  I  dreamed  uv  goats — dreamed  it  wus 
de  last  great  day,  dat  Marse  Walter  wus  de  great 
Judge,  an'  when  my  time  come  I  wus  cast  over  among 
de  goatses. 

"Sho'  nuff,  at  breakfus'  heah  cum  de  sheriff,  an' 
reads  me  er  writ  an'  takes  me  to  de  jestice  cou't. 

"I  nurver  had  been  'rested  befo'.  I  wus  scand'lized 
an'  ruined,  all  by  er  lot  uv  goatses.  I  axed  'em  to  let 
me  see  you,  dat  you'd  go  on  my  bond,  but  dey  drug  me 
befo'  de  squire. 

"You  nurver  seed  sicher  trial;  ever'body  wus  dar, 
an'  de  trouble  I  wus  in  seem  to  give  gener'l  satisfacshun. 
De  Majah  he  spoke  ag'in'  me,  tellin'  de  jestice  dat  I 
went  into  de  paddock  an*  kilt  de  whole  flock  uv 
goatses.  'He  wus  so  iarnal  ugly  dey  all  drapt  dead  at 
sight  uv  him,'  he  say.  He  kep'  dat  an'  some  mo'  up 
furerhour,  an'  he  had  de  whole  cou'thouse,  judge  an' 
all,  er-laflfin'  at  me.  I  nurver  seed  fo'ks  have  so  much 
fun  an'  I  nurver  felt  so  mean  an'  low  down.  De 
Majah  'splains  it  wus  er  flock  uv  ve'y  unusual  goatses, 


2o6  "UNCLE  WASH" 

called  Nervous  Goats,  an'  dat  dey  wus  wuth  er  hundred 
dollars  erpiece,  an'  he  figured  out  dat  I  owed  Marse 
Walter  des'  five  thousand,  six  hundred  dollars  an' 
de  state  pen  two  years  hard  labor  fur  trespass ! 

"  Wid  dat  I  jes'  give  up.  I'd  figured  dat  ef  it  cum 
to  de  wuss  dey  wus  wuth  'bout  two  dollars  each  an'  I 
knowed  I  cu'd  sell  de  filly  an'  pay  dat.  But  dis  jes' 
ruint  me.  I  wanted  to  die.  I  wus  willin'  fur  to  sell 
all  I  had  an'  pay  up,  but  de  Judge  sed  I'd  hafter  make 
er  speech  an'  'splain  how  it  wus  or  he'd  hafter  gin 
jedgment  fur  de  amount  an'  hang  me  afterwards.  Hit 
looked  lak  dey  wus  gwine  to  make  it  es  miser'bul  fur  me 
as  dey  cud  so  I  done  de  bes'  I  cud  wid  er  heavy  h'art. 

"  *  Marse  Judge  an'  Gen'lm'n,'  sez  I.  Ts  er  ole 
nigger,  dat  has  lived  er  godly  life  gwine  in  an'  comin' 
out  befo'  you,  an'  nurver  got  into  no  trouble  befo' 
till  I  got  tangled  up  wid  dat  ar  lot  uv  goatses  in  de 
paddock  an'  I  think  dis  wus  de  same  breed  dat  will 
be  on  de  Lord's  lef  han'  at  de  jedgment  morn.  Dey's 
I  na'chully  de  chillun  uv  darkness  an'  dis  heah  wus 
er  put-up  job  on  me  fur  to  make  me  furgit  my  sermon 
an'  do  de  devil  er  good  turn.  Gen'l'm'n,  when  dem 
goatses  all  drapped  dead  on  me,  don't  you  kno'  I  wus 
des'  es  skeered  es  dey  wus,  an'  de  only  reason  I  didn't 
drap  too  wus  because  I  didn't  stop  runnin'  long  enuff? 
I  wus  in  de  same  fix  dat  Marse  Jack  Reeves,  uv  Hard- 
man  County,  wus  when  he  got  drunk,  missed  his  train 
an'  wus  put  in  de  same  bed  by  de  landlord  wid  er  dead 
man  dat  had  been  laid  out  in  de  hotel.  'Bout  two 
o'clock  he  got  sober  enuff  an'  thirsty  enuff  to  take 
notice  an'  he  heerd  two  young  fo'ks  talkin'  sweet  in  de 


THE  NERVOUS  GOATS  207 

room  an'  de  young  man  wus  tryin'  to  kiss  de  gal. 
But  she  said,  'George,  you  mus'n't  try  to  kiss  me  whilst 
were  sittin  up  wid er corpse,'  an'  den  Marse  Jack  puts 
out  his  han'  an'  feels  to  see  who  he  is  sleepin'  wid  an' 
de  face  he  teches  wus  marble!  He  wus  in  his  night 
clothes  an'  it  wus  er  race  'twixt  him  an'  de  young  fo'ks 
es  to  which  'ud  git  to  de  open  air  fust.  But  he  'lowed 
in  de  piece  he  writ  erbout  it,  dat  he  wus  des'  es  bad 
skeered  as  dey  wus.  Now  dat's  de  way  it  wus  wid  me 
an'  de  goatses,  gen'l'm'n,  an'  I  think  I  got  skeer  enuff 
widout  bein'  fined  an'  saunt  up.' 

"Dis  seem  to  tickle  'em  mighty,  an'  de  judge  said 
dat  defo'  he  would  decide  he  thort  it  jes'  an'  right  fur  all 
hands  to  go  down  to  Marse  Walter's  farm  an'  see  jes' 
how  many  goatses  I  did  kill. 

"Dis  kerried,  an*  de  sheriff  handcuffed  me  an'  dey 
all  tuck  me  down  to  dar,  an'  I  felt  'bout  de  sheep- 
killines'  dog  dat  ever  wus.  I  seed  'em  all  winkin'  an' 
laughin'  es  dey  went  erlong,  an'  me  er-beggin'  'em  to 
let  me  go  off  an'  die.  We  went  to  de  paddock  an' 
dar  wus  anurr  flock  of  goatses,  'zact'ly  lak  de  ones  I'd 
kilt.  I  looked  at  'em  'stounded  lak,  fur  I  seed  I'd 
lef  some  seed  goatses,  an'  knowin'  how  dey  prop-er- 
gaits,  I  jes'  nachully  thort  dey'd  done  all  dat  in  two 
days. 

'Dar  is  er  new  flock,'  sez  de  sheriff.  'Now,  ole 
man,  des'  sho'  us  des'  how  you  did  manage  to  kill  all 
dem  other  ones.' 

"  'Gen'l'm'n,'  sez  I,  'I  wus  comin'  'long  right  heah, 
cr-wuckin'  out  my  sermon,  an'  right  heah/  sez  I, 
'I  steps  oner  little  goat  entirely  unbeknownst  to  me, 


ao8  "UNCLE  WASH" 

an'  he  skeers  me  so  I  jumped  twenty  foot  in  de  air, 
comin'  right  back  down  on  dat  fool  goat,  dat  didn't 
do  nufifm'  but  dance  up  an'  down,  hollerin'  bah-bah, 
an'  tangled  me  up  so  ever'  time  I  step  he'd  be  dar  whar 
I  step  at.  "  Bab-bab, "  sez  he,  still  er-dancin'  'twixt 
my  legs.  " Bah-bah,  yo'se'f,"  sez  I;  "if  you  cyarit 
run,  fur  Cord's  sake  git  outen  de  way  an'  lent  me  slow 
you  bow;"  an'  den,  gen'l'm'n,  so  he'p  he  heab'n,  I 
didn't  do  nuflfin'  but  jes'  gin  er  big  whoop  an'  clap  my 
hands  like  dis — .' 

"  I  heard  'em  all  shout  wid  fun,  an'  I  looks  an'  'fore 
Gawd,  I'd  done  it  erg'in — ever'  goat  dar  had  drapped 
dead! 

"I  broke  an'  tried  to  run,  dis  time  to  de  creek  to 
drown  myse'f. 

"  '  Ketch  him,'  sed  de  Majah;  'don't  you  see  he  is  de 
ole  devil  hisse'f?  Ketch  him;  he's  er  witch.' 

"  I  stood  par'lyzed,  beggin'  'em  to  kill  me  an'  den 
I  seed  one  goat  after  anurr  kick  erwhile  an'  den  git  up  es 
solemn  es  deacons  an'  go  to  eatin'  grass  es  nachul  es  er 
grass  widder! 

"  I  broke  in  er  big  laugh  an'shouted  an'de  squire  sed: 

"  'Resurrection  morn,  Wash — fust  man  up  fur  a 
mint  julip!' 

"It  wus  all  fur  fun  an'  dey  had  put  it  up  on  de  ole 
man  scan'lous,  but  de  aftermath  wus  fine — er  shady 
grove,  er  good  barbycue  uv  dat  very  kid  dat  had 
skeered  me  so,  watermifions  an'  mint  julip! 

"  But  I  nurver  'spects  to  heah  dem  white  fo'ks  tell 
de  las'  uv  it  an'  nachully  I  keeps  shy  uv  nervous 
goatses  an'  nervous  fo'ks  uv  all  kind!" 


A    CONTEST    IN    THE    KING'S    ENGLISH 

THERE  is  a  young  darky  downtown,  at  a  livery 
stable  who  has  been  priding  himself  on  his 
ability,  as  he  expressed  it,  "ter  fling  English."  But  he 
takes  no  pride  in  it  any  more.  Uncle  Wash  cured  him, 
and  it  happened  this  way: 

"Whenever  I  goes  down  dar  arter  yo'  mare/'  the 
old  darky  said,  "dis  heah  young  niggah  gins  ter  fling 
his  English  'roun'  scan'lus.  I  tell  you,  boss,  I's 
gittin'  tired  uv  dat,  an'  I's  gwi'  teach  'im  how  ter 
talk  English  sho'  nuff  some  day.  I  sw'ar  to  you,  sah, " 
said  the  old  man,  as  he  mopped  his  face  with  his  red 
handkerchief,  "It's  so  hot  I's  mighty  nigh  mul- 
terplied,  an'  I's  got  de  commissary  rumertism,  ter 
boot;  but  jes  you  watch  out  fur  me  de  naixt  time  dat 
nigger  'gins  ter  fling  his  jaw-bone  'roun'  whar  I's 
standin' — jes  you  watch  me  riddle  'im  wid  sintax  an' 
orfrography  an'  sich !  Jes  you  watch !" 

For  several  days  after  that  I  noticed  the  old  man 
studying  an  old  Davies  Geometry  and  an  obsolete 
work  on  synonyms,  which  I  had  sent  to  the  attic  long 
ago — looking,  as  he  expressed  it,  for  "some  good  cuss- 
words  to  fit  de  'casion."  But  I  had  forgotten  all 
about  it  until  one  evening  I  drove  into  the  stable  with 
him.  A  sprightly  young  darky  ran  out,  took  the  mare 
by  the  bit,  and  patronizingly  remarked: 

"Gentermen,  condescen'  to  disintergrate  frum  de 
vehicle,  an'  de  quadruped  shall  have  my  unqualified 

14  (209) 


210  "UNCLE  WASH" 

solicertashun,  wid  abundance  uv  nutrititious  eller- 
ments. "  And  he  smirked  at  the  old  man  as  much  as  to 
say:  "Don't  dat  paralyze  you,  old  man?" 

"  Hold  on  dar,"  exclaimed  Uncle  Wash,  and  his  eyes 
flashed  as  he  rose  quickly  to  the  occasion:  "Sonny/* 
he  began  witheringly,  "it  is  transparent  to  de  interlac- 
tual  apprehension  uv  eny  disinterested  individual  dat 
de  gravertashun  uv  special  conceits  described  on  de 
hypotonuse  of  your  simeon-headed  eclipse,  am  entirely 
too  cumbershum  fur  de  horizontal  vinculum  dat  cir 
cumscribes  de  radius  uv  yo'  cocoanut-shaped  trape 
zium,  sah!" 

"Wha — wha — what  dat  you  say,  Unker  Wash?" 
gasped  the  young  darky  as  his  jaw  began  to  drop. 

"I  merely  riz  ter  interjec'  de  mental  reservashun, " 
remarked  the  old  man  indifferently,  "dat  de  interlectual 
hemmerage  uv  verbosity  procedin'  from  de  vacuum 
produced  by  de  metermorphosis  uv  de  origonal  super 
structure  uv  de  san'-stones  uv  yo'  cranium,  am  entirely 
incumpatabul  wid  de  consterpashun  uv  ideas  generated 
by  de  paralysis  uv  yo'  interlectual  acumen,  sah!" 

"Gawd,  whut  is  he  sayin'?"  remarked  the  young 
negro  sheepishly  to  the  crowd  that  had  gathered  to 
enjoy  his  discomfiture. 

"In  udder  words,"  shot  out  the  old  man  again, 
"ter  make  hit  entirely  incomprehensibul  to  de  con- 
glommerated  hypothesis  uv  yo'  trapezoidal  interlec', 
I  simply  remarked  dat  de  corporeal  superfluerty  uv 
yo'  physical  insigniferkance  am  entirely  too  cumber 
some  fur  de  beliy-band  uv  yo'  mental  confermashun, 
sah!" 


A  CONTEST  IN  THE  KING'S  ENGLISH    211 

Here  the  crowd  shouted,  the  young  darky's  eyes 
looked  like  moons,  his  legs  shook,  and  he  gasped  out: 
"Wha-— wha — what  dat  old  man  talkin'  'bout.,  man?" 

"  How  long  since  dis  nigger  wus  cotch  in  the  jungles 
uv  Africa,"  asked  Uncle  Wash  quietly  of  the  proprietor 
of  the  stable,  "dat  he  can't  understan'  de  simples' 
remark  in  de  plaines'  uv  English?" 

And  then  the  old  man  tried  again.  He  rolled  up  his 
sleeves,  and  with  the  air  of  one  who  was  trying  to  make 
himself  exceedingly  plain  he  began  laying  it  off  on  his 
fingers  and  palm: 

"Sonny,  de  equilateral  altertudeuv  de  comprehen- 
serbility  uv  my  former  observations  wus  to  de  effect 
dat,  ef  in  de  course  uv  er  cummercial  transacshun,  I 
shu'd  onexpectedly  negotiate  fur  yo'  habeas-corporosity 
at  its  intrinsic  invalidity  an'  quickly  dispose  uv  it 
at  de  exaggerated  hifolutiness  uv  yo'  own  colossal 
conceitability  an'  hipnartic  expectashun  I'd  have 
sufficient  commercial  collateral  to  transpose  my 
present  habitation  to  de  perennial  localization  uv  de 
avenue  called  Easy." 

By  this  time  the  young  darky  was  fairly  groveling 
in  the  dust, 

"Do  yo'  comprehen'  dat,"  yelled  the  old  man, 
"yo'  po'  benighted  parallelergram,  distended  frum  de 
apex  uv  er  truncated  coon  (cone),  yo'  bow-legged  son 
uv  er  parallelopipedon — 

But  the  old  man  got  no  further  with  his  geometrical 
swearing,  for  amid  the  shouts  of  the  spectators  his 
opponent  had  vanished,  and  as  he  went  up  the  street 
to  have  the  old  man  arrested  for  swearing  in  public, 


212  "UNCLE  WASH" 

he  remarked  to  the  policeman  as  he  told  his  tale: 
"I  didn't  keer,  Cap'n,  'bout  'im  outgineralin'  me  er 
flingin'  English,  an'  outcussin'  me  in  mo'  kinder  new 
fangled  cuss  words  den  ever  cum  out  uv  Turkey,  but 
when  he  'fleeted  on  my  mother  by  callin'  me  de  bow- 
legged-son-uv-er-parrot-an-er-pigeon-roost,  de  nigger 
don't  live  dat  I  gwi'  take  dat  frum!" 

It  was  a  week  later  before  Uncle  Wash  and  I  had 
occasion  to  drive  into  the  stable  again.  We  were  met 
by  the  same  darky,  who  took  the  mare  by  the  bit  and 
meekly  remarked:  "Light,  gentlemen;  I'll  take  de 
mair." 

And  the  old  man  said:  "I  am  so  excruciatinly 
rejoiced,  sonny,  to  recognize  de  rejuvernated  resur 
rection  uv  de  exhileration'  perception  dat  an  infmer- 
tesermal  ray  uv  common  sense  has  penerrated  de 
comatose  condition  uv  yo'  fibrous  misunderstandin'. 
In  other  words,"  he  winked,  "I's  saved  an  ebononic 
interlec  frum  er  new-bohn  grave. " 


HOW  UNCLE  WASH   CONVERTED 
PHOSPHATE  IKE 

PHOSPHATE  IKE  was  by  all  odds  the  worst  negro 
1  in  the  Mount  Pleasant  phosphate  fields.  Three 
killings  and  ten  years  in  the  penitentiary  were  the 
decorations  that  made  him  at  once  the  revered  and 
honored  of  his  kind,  and  after  such  a  record  the  tribute 
he  levied  on  all  other  negroes,  and  which  they  honored 
at  sight  and  without  protest,  ran  all  the  way  from  their 
wares  to  their  wives.  His  beaten  paths  were  from 
crap  game  to  crap  game  and  from  bar-room  to  bar 
room,  varying  by  moonlight  toward  certain  places 
where  roosted  things  with  feathers  on  them.  This 
is  Uncle  Wash's  account  of  how  he  changed  the  tenor 
Ike's  ways: 

"De  Mount  Pleasant  fiel'  is  de  toughes'  in  our 
dioseize,  de  niggers  dar  bein'  all  phosphate  miners, 
allers  comin'  an'  gwine — chiefly  gwine.  An'  among 
all  de  thievin',  drunkin'  lot,  Phosphate  Ike,  wid  er 
razor  in  his  hip  pocket  an'  er  durrenger  in  his  boots, 
wus  de  wust. 

"  I  wus  'lected  arter  er  hard  tuzzle  to  minister  to  de 
spir'chul  contenshuns  uv  dat  congregashun,  an'  I 
made  up  my  mind  I  wus  gwine  do  things  dat  'ud  be 
worthy  uv  my  repertashun.  So  I  labored  in  de  vine 
yard  early  an'  late,  an'  tho'  I  cort  many  er  sinner  in  de 
net,  I  nurver  cu'd  ketch  Ike.  I  helt  sever'l  distracted 
meetin's  endurin'  uv  de  yeah,  thinkin'  Ik'ud  walk 

(213) 


214  "UNCLE  WASH" 

into  de  trap,  but  he  only  laflf '  at  me  an'  saunt  me  wurd 
I'd  hafter  bait  dat  trap  wid  sump'n  mo'  enticin'  dan 
craw-fish  gospel  an'  ole  'oman  soup  to  make  him  give 
up  whisky  an'  watermilyuns.  He  even  had  de'  dacity 
to  tell  me  to  my  face  dat  de  wing  uv  one  yaller  laig  on 
earth  wus  wurth  two  in  heaben.  Oh,  he  wus  er  scan'lus, 
thievin',  blue-gum  inferdel! 

"But  I  laid  fur  'im.  I  had  to  do  it.  Befo'  fall 
my  influence  'gun  to  wane,  an'  I  seed  it  all  wus  because 
I  cu'dn't  trap  dat  nigger  into  de  fold.  De  contrer- 
bushuns  in  de  hat  dropped  es  stead'lyes  er  ole  maid's 
intrust  in  de  widower  preacher  arter  she  learns  he's 
gwine  ter  marry  de  fat  gal  uv  de  quire,  an'  one  day 
when  de  hat  cum  back  empty  I  knowed  dey  had  los' 
faith  in  my  'bility  to  land  dat  onregenerit  cuss  an* 
his  crowd,  an'  ef  I  didn't  do  somethin'  quick  dar'd  be 
ernuther  nigger  passin'  dat  hat  ever'  thu'd  Sunday 
an'  eatin'  fried  chicken  'tween  meals  wid  de  sisterin. 

"I  gin  out  dat  de  bigges'  distracted  meetin'  uv  de 
year'd  start  de  nex'  Lawd'sday,  an'  dat  I  wus  gwinter 
rout  de  devil  in  de  Mount  Pleasant  District  or  give 
him  de  fieP. 

"Befo  de  time  come  I  sot  my  traps  fur  Bad  Ike. 
He  wus  de  head  an'  front  uv  all  de  crowd  dat  wus 
holdin'  out  ergin  de  Lawd.  Behin'  him  wus  forty  odd 
devilish  young  niggers  an'  niggeresses,  an'  he  wus  de 
bell-wether.  I  had  wucked  er  year  an'  didn't  have 
nuffin'  in  de  church  but  er  few  old  sisterin  dat  cu'dn't 
do  nuffin'  but  go  to  sleep  endurin'  de  sermon  an'  wake 
up  to  jine  de  doxology,  an'  er  few  ole  bretherin  dat  had 
plenty  of  piety  but  no  pie.  Nuffin'  went  in  dat  secshun 


PHOSPHATE  IKE  CONVERTED  215 

but  er  bran'  dance,  er  crap  game  an'  er  nigger  killin', 
led  by  Ike  an'  his  set.  I  wus  square  up  agin'  de  wust 
propersishun  de  gospel  had  ever  hit  sence  de  burnin' 
uv  de  saints  at  de  stake,  an'  I  'cided  I'd  hafter  go 
outside  uv  all  creed  an'  conduct  an'  outside  uv  all 
prescerdent  an'  gospel  an'  ever' thing  else  to  bring  de 
Lawd's  side  ahead  uv  di-s  deciple  uv  de  devil. 

"  But  I  done  it.  Necesserty  am  de  mother  uv  inven- 
shun,  an'  it  holds  jes'  es  good  in  'lijun  es  it  do  in 
anything  else.  But  I  wus  de  daddy  uv  dis  skeme. 

"Wai,  Marse  John,  de  mo'  I  study  it  de  mo'  I  seed 
I'd  jes'  hafter  git  up  er  new  kind  uv  'lijun  myse'f  to  fit 
dat  case.  Dar  wa'nt  nuffin'  in  de  Bible  from  Sodum 
an'  Germorrah  to  de  swallerin'  uv  Jonah  dat'd  fit  dat 
nigger.  Fiah  on  his  back'd  only  made  him  git  er 
move  on  hisse'f,  like  fiah  on  er  turtle's  back,  to  some 
other  place  uv  devilment;  an*  eny  whale  big  ernuff  to 
swaller  him  wid  dat  razor  in  'is  pocket  would  er 
knowed  how  er  operashun  fur  appendix  felt  frum  de 
inside.  De  mo'  I  study  hit  de  mo'  I  seed  sump'n  wus 
wrong  wid  our  way  uv  enticin'  sinners  into  de  fold. 
Jes'  compare  de  devil's  way  an'  ourn  an'  see  how  he  has 
got  us  beat  er  block.  We  sticks  to  de  ole  way,  sollum 
es  owls  an'  'bout  es  much  life  in  us  as  deir  nestes,  whilst 
de  devil  has  er  glad,  new,  joyous  skeme  to  fit  de  require 
ments  uv  ever'  candidate.  He  keeps  up  wid  de 
fashun,  whilst  we  wearin'  de  same  'lijus  clo's,  knee 
britches,  powdered  wig  an'  all  dat  useter  fit  Marse 
John  Wesley  and  Martin  Luther.  It  must  er  bin  er 
good  fit  fur  dem  befo'  de  days  uv  flyin'  cyars  an'  'lectric 
lights  an'  airships,  beca'se  de  only  fun  er  man  had  wus 


216  "UNCLE  WASH" 

when  he  wus  born,  married  or  dead,  or  turned  out  uv 
jail  fur  debt  an'  folks  natchully  went  to  church  to  hear 
de  news  an'  see  who  hadn't  bin  hung  fur  his  'lijus 
cunvicshuns  sence  de  las'  meetin'.  Jes  look  at  some 
uv  de  devil's  skemes.  He  gits  up  er  theater,  full  uv 
light  an'  music  an'  fun;  we  come  back  wid  er  prayer- 
meetin',  wid  de  same  ole  long-winded  bretherin  sayin' 
de  same  ole  prayers.  He  laughs  an'  gits  up  er  dan:e 
whar  young  people  can  forgit  deyse'fs  in  er  little  uv  de 
joy  uv  living.  We  sees  his  han'  an'  cums  back  wid  er 
Sunday-school  lesein  tellin'  'em  all  de  way  to  have  real 
fun  is  to  be  good  an'  lonesum  an'  let  other  folks  kno' 
when  dey  ain't  livin'  right.  He  knows  de  weakness  uv 
man  an'  de  folly  uv  woman  an'  he  gits  up  bar-rooms  wid 
'lectric  lights  an'  purty  pictures,  crap  games  fur  niggers 
an'  poker  an'  bridge  whist  fur  de  whites;  we  cums 
back  wid  sody-watter,  church  teas  an'  games  lak  tit-tat- 
toe  an'  flinch.  He  gits  up  politics  an'  politercul  conven- 
shuns  whar  men  meet,  fight  it  out  in  de  good  ole  way, 
raise  hell,  take  chances  lak  game  white  men  an'  have 
er  good  time  er  die  tryin'.  We  'spon's  wid  sermons 
an'  conf'runces  an'  convenshuns,  whar  everything  is 
stacked  an'  dried,  oil  poured  on  de  water  befo'  it  gits 
troudled  an'  de  fences  all  whitewashed  befo'  dey  is 
ever  put  up.  He  changes  de  style  uv  'is  house  wid 
ev'ry  new  invenshun,  but  allers  bright  an'  joyous  even 
if  it  ends  in  death,  but  we  try  to  'ntice  young  fo'ks  into 
our  house  not  wid  de  joy  an'  gladness  an'  cheer 
fulness  of  'lijun,  but  wid  de  same  ole  preacher  still 
harpin'  on  hell  an'  damnashun  an'  de  same  ole  organ 
croakin : 


PHOSPHATE  IKE  CONVERTED  217 

'Hark  frum  de  tomb  er  doleful  soun'. 

"He  gits  up  op'rys  dat  make  folks  forgit  dey  livin* 
an'  dream  dreams  uv  beauty;  an'  social  clubs  wid  fine 
clothes  on  to  lif  'em  up  out  er  deyse'fs  an'  away  frum 
de  wuck  an'  common  things  uv  life.  He  tells  'em  all 
to  live  an'  be  happy  an'  we  tells  'em  to  die  an'  be 
damned. 

"I  knowed  our  'lijun  wus  all  right,  but  I  seed  we 
ain't  doin'  it  right.  Heah  wus  dese  cattle  dat  I 
cu'dn't  even  git  up  to  de  paschure  bars  to  salt 
'em,  let  alone  close  ernuff  to  put  er  halter  on 
'em,  all  fur  lack  uv  er  little  common  sense  in  'lijun. 
I  'cided  to  salt  'em,  bridle  'em,  saddle  'em  an* 
ride  'em. 

"  I  laid  awake  uv  nights  thinkin'  out  my  plan  an* 
one  night  arter  much  prayer  de  light  broke.  It  tuk 
me  two  mo'  days  to  git  up  my  program  an'  git  it  stuck 
up  on  all  de  nigger  trails  from  Columbia  to  Lawrence- 
burg."  The  old  man  chuckled  as  he  pulled  one  out. 

BIG  MEETIN'  AT  FOSFATE  CHURCH. 

Come  one— Come  all.     New  thing  in  relijun,  enter- 
tainin',  enticin',  upliftin'. 

1.  Openin'  Overtorys,  Moses  in  de  Bullrushes.     By 
de  fidlers  three. 

2.  Cake  walk  fur  de  bigges'  watermilyun,  widders 
barred.     By  all. 

3.  Short    talk,    My    Rikellecshuns  uv    Hell.     Br'er 
Timothy  Jones. 

(N.  B.  Br'er  Jones  is  er  reformed  drunkard,  bin  in  de 


218  "UNCLE  WASH" 

pen  8  times  an'  had  five  wives  in  one  year.     He  speaks 
from  authority.) 

4.  Guessin'  contest  fur  de  nex'  big  milyun.     Ques 
tion:  Who  was  de  father  uv  Zebedee's  chillun? 

(Preachers  not  obleeged  to  answer.) 

5.  Passin'  de  hat  fur  de  po'  uv  de  church.     Deacon 
Dickey. 

(Save  your  bes'  fur  de  las'.) 

6.  Organ  music,  Carve  dat  Possum.     By  de  quire. 

7.  Potater  race  fur  peck  er  sweet  potaters. 
(Canderdates  tied  up  in  sackcloth  an'  ashes.     Route 

from  pulpit  to  pool  in  de  creek.     Winner  an'  water- 
milyun  bofe  baptized. 

8.  Soulful  sermon,  text,  Sodom  an'  Germorrah  an* 
er  Pile  of  Salt.     Br'er  Washington. 

9.  PASSIN'  DE  HAT  FUR  DE  PARSON.     By  Phosphate 
Ike. 

The  old  man  chuckled.  "You  nurver  seed  any 
thing  lak  it — de  bigges'  crowd  dat  ever  got  into  dat 
church  turned  out,  an',  bless  heaben,  dar  sot  Ike  on  de 
front  bench,  so  proud  of  de  'titlement  I  bestowed  on 
him,  leadin'  de  whole  gang.  Now,  Ike  wa'n't  no  fool, 
ef  he  did  have  fits,  an'  when  de  hat  was  passed  arter 
de  guessin'  contes',  and  come  back  heavy  wid  plunks 
I  seed  Ike  'gin  to  take  notice.  At  de  fust  call  fur 
mohners,  he  wus  up  an'  whilst  dey  wus  prayin'  Ike 
got  me  to  post  him  on  de  wuckin'  uv  de  hat.  I  'splained 
to  him  dat  all  I  needed  wus  er  good  deacon  fur  hat- 
passer  an'  dat  I  allers  gin  er  tithe  to  de  deacon,  'cord- 
in  to  de  receets.  I  didn't  hafter  'splain  to  him  what 


PHOSPHATE  IKE  CONVERTED  219 

a  tithe  wus  befo'  he  come  to  our  'lijun  in  great  shape. 
This  fetched  all  his  gang,  an'  sech  er  love  feast  as  we 
had! 

"  'Now,  Ike/  I  whispers  to  him,  Ts  gwinter  preach 
a  soulful  sermon,  an'  I  spec's  you  to  do  de  res'.' 

"  'I  think  you've  hit  'em  jes'  right,'  sez  he,  sorter 
keerless;  'dey  all  been  paid  off  yis'day,  an'  I  kalkerlate 
dar  is  jes'  about  five  hundred  good  dollars  scattered  in 
dat  bunch  uv  niggers.' 

"  I  tole  'im  I  hope  he  be  vigilant  in  de  cause." 

"  'Ain't  I  de  deacon  uv  de  hat?'  sez  he. 

"  'You  is,'  sez  I. 

"  'And  I  gits  er  tithe?' 

"  'Sartinly,'  sez  I. 

"  '  Whut's  de  watchword  uv  de  deacon?'  he  asks. 

"  ' De  Lawd  loveih  er  cheerful  giver,'  sez  I. 

"He  kep'  on  sayin'  it  over  till  he  knowed  it,  an'  den 
he  went  back  an'  locked  de  do's,  lockin'  up  every 
nigger  dar. 

"He  wus  a  'swasive  nigger,  as  well  as  er  holy  terror, 
an'  ever  nigger  dar  wus  mortal  skeered  uv  him.  I 
nearly  drap  outer  de  pulpit  when  I  seed  his  methods. 
He  hung  er  big  basket  on  de  muzzle  uv  his  durringer  an' 
went  down  de  aisle,  stickin'  dat  gun  under  de  nose  uv 
every  nigger  an  whisperin',  'De  Lawd  loveth  er  cheerful 
giver,'  an'  'Cast  thy  bread  upon  de  waiters.'  An'  dey 
jes'  fell  over  each  other,  when  dey  look  down  de  bar'l 
uv  dat  gun  to  reach  dat  basket  wid  de  stuff  dat  er  fool 
is  soon  parted  wid.  Dem  dat  didn't  have  de  change, 
flung  in  fives  an'  tens,  an'  dem  dat  didn'  have  nothin' 
flung  in  collar  buttons,  razors,  buckeyes,  snuff  boxes 


220  "UNCLE  WASH" 

an'  terbacker  bags.  None  uv  dem  didn'  want  ter  spute 
de  p'int  wid  er  bad  nigger  wid  his  ban'  on  de  trigger  an' 
de  muzzle  in  deir  face  tellin'  'em  so  'swasive  to  give  to 
de  Lawd. 

"Boss,  it  wus  de  bigges'  collecshun  ever  tuck  up  in 
niggerdom,  an'  I's  still  liven'  on  de  proceeds.  When 
Ike  fetched  it  up  an'  poured  it  out  dar  wus: 

"  Razors 44 

"  Buckeyes 16 

"  Eelskins  fur  rheumatiz 10 

"Ole  pistols 14 

"Knives 18 

"  Silver  watches 8 

"Pipes 49 

"Snuff  boxes 10 

"  Sasshay  bags 13 

"Money 1487 

"  Hit  wus  er  clean  haul,  but  you  could  er  cut  de  silence 
in  dat  church  wid  er  knife. 

"  I  gin  out  de  doxology  and  Ike  let  'em  out,  but  dey 
went  out  so  glum  I  felt  bad,  an'  I  sez: 

'Ike,   dat   new   kinder   meetin'  is  er  prenounced 
success,  but  I's  'fraid  I'll  nurver  git  'em  back  again.' 
'We  don'  need  to,'  sez  Ike,  as  he  counted  out  his 
part. 

"  De  nex'  week  I  met  Ike  an*  I  axed  him  if  he  wus  still 
stickin.' 

"  'Still  stickin'?'  sez  he,  contemplative  lak;  'Br'er 
Washington,  you  don'  know  how  good  de  Lawd  has 


PHOSPHATE   IKE  CONVERTED         221 

been  to  me.  You  know,  I  uster  be  er  bad  nigger,  killin' 
and  stealin'  fur  er  livin'.  But  sense  I  got  yo'  kind  uv 
'lijun  I  bin  different.  Jes'  to  show  you,  I  went  into 
a  sto'  de  other  day  to  see  er  man.  But  he  had  went  out 
fur  er  minute,  an'  dar  wus  nobody  dar,  an'  dar  wus  hung 
up  er  twenty-dollar  silver  watch  on  de  wall.  I  reached 
up  my  han'  fur  it,  an'  de  Lawd  said:  "Don'  take  it, 
Ike. "  I  couldn'  stan'  it,  an'  my  han'  jes'  drapped  on  er 
little  ole  pair  uv  five-dollar  shoes,  an'  I  slipped  em  in 
my  pocket  an'  went  out.  Dat's  whut  de  Lawd's  done 
fur  me." 


THE   RECONSTRUCTION  OF   MARSE 
GEORGE 

NO,  sah,"  said  Old  Wash  the  other  night,  "I  ain't 
nurver  seed  jestus  contributed  jes  lak  it  useter 
be  done  when  we  niggers  helt  de  balance  uv  de  power 
an'  misterpreted  de  laws  uv  de  Ian'.  It  wus  back  in 
Reconstruction  days — er  skeme  de  publicans  an'  sinners 
'rigernated  to  change  de  complexion  Uv  de  fightin'  white 
fo'ks  uv  de  South  without  changin'  their  pedigrees. 

"Dey  wanted  to  make  white  black,  and  black  white, 
an'  they  cum  'bout  es  nigh  succeedin'  es  de  man  who 
tried  to  make  blackbirds  white  by  whitewashin'  their 
eggs  before  hatchin' ! 

"  Bein'  er  wise  nigger  an'  raised  wid  Marse  George  an' 
havin'  some  painful  rickerlictions  uv  some  uv  my 
past  experience  in  monkeyin'  wid  de  cowhidin'  end  of 
ole  Marster,  I  stayed  on  my  side  uv  de  fence  an'  left  de 
speriment  uv  whitewashin'  de  eggs  uv  gamecocks  to 
niggers  dat  had  got  er  whole  lot  to  1'arn  about  de  un 
lawful  proceedin's  uv  white  fo'ks  when  they  wus  up 
ag'in  er  question  uv  life  an'  death.  Wy  it's  scanlus  de 
disrespect  dat  white  fo'ks  has  fur  er  law  dat  don't  fit 
'em!  If  ole  Moses  had  brought  'em  down  de  ten 
comman'ments  an'  had  added  es  de  'leventh,  de 
Fo'teenth  'Mendment  to  de  constertushun,  'bout 
evry'body  bein'  created  free  an'  equal,  dey  would  er 
spoilt  de  whole  plan  uv  salvashun  by  bustin'  dem  tab 
lets  over  ole  Moses'  head ! 

"We  know  now  dat  all  dat  reconstrucshun  foolish- 
(222) 


RECONSTRUCTION  OF  MARSE  GEORGE   223 

ness  wus  wuss  on  de  blacks  dan  on  de  whites  an'  dat 
wus  bad  enuff.  Fur  it  sot  our  bes'  friends  ag'in  us— 
our  own  white  fo'ks — an'  it  brought  to  de  front  all  dat 
wus  low  an'  vishus  in  our  own  race.  Reconstrucshun 
es  put  up  on  us  by  de  publicans,  was  de  daddy  uv  Jim 
Crow  cars,  lynchin'  an'  Kuklux. 

"But  dis  heah  Marse  George  thing — wal  Suh,  when 
we  seed  de  jig  was  up  at  de  ole  home  me  an'  Marse 
George  we  went  to  Wes'  Tennessee  to  run  er  cotton 
plantashun.  It  wus  right  aftah  de  wah  an'  de  niggers 
wus  ten  to  one  down  dar.  Dey  done  all  de  votin',  hilt 
all  de  offices,  got  all  de  taxes  which  de  white  fo'ks 
paid,  an*  ended  in  raisin'  all  de  hell  dat  wus  needed 
to  complete  de  pictur'.  An'  de  mos'  uv  'it  cum 
back  to  dey  own  fiahsides.  Dey  wus  all  common,  low- 
down  fiel'-niggers  out  dar,  jes  three  generashuns  moved 
frum  monkeys,  an'  bein'  er  emernently  spectabul 
cullid  gemmen  f  urn  de  race  hoss  state  uv  Murry  County 
an'  havin'  'sochated  all  my  life  wid  gentermen,  I 
didn't  have  no  standin'  wid  dat  bunch  uv  baboons, 
dat  run  ever'thing  in  dat  end  uv  de  state. 

"So  me  an'  Marse  George,  we  jes'  'tended  to  our  own 
bizness  uv  tryin'  to  make  two  stalks  uv  cotton  grow  wid 
one  mule,  fur  de  Yankees  had  cleaned  up  all  de  stock 
dat  wan't  hid  in  de  cane  brake  endurin'  de  wah. 

"  It  useter  be  pow'ful  lonesome  uv  er  Sundays  fur  us, 
an*  bein'  away  from  home  an'  de  blue-grass  whar  we 
useter  spen  our  Sundays  breakin'  de  thurrerbred  colts, 
nachully  we  gin  to  git  'lijus  fur  lak  uv  healthy  mental 
exercise  an'  sumpin'  nurr  to  do.  Es  dar  is  no  state  es 
bad  as  dat  fur  er  young  man — hit  leadin'  frum  hypock- 


224  "UNCLE  WASH" 

ercy  in  youth  to  note  shavin'  in  old  age,  an'  es  he 
cudn't  play  poker  wid  er  nigger,  Marse  George  nachully 
wus  lonesome. 

"One  Sunday  we  got  er  nigger  to  haul  us  some  fiah 
wood  an'  Marse  George  'mused  hissef  wid  his  Colt's 
pistol,  shootin'  at  chips  an'  things  I'd  throw  up,  he 
allers  bein'  mighty  handy  wid  his  pistols,  an'  he  didn't 
wanter  lose  de  'nack  he  had  learned  in  de  blue  grass 
uv  shootin'  de  heads  off  uv  squrls,  an'  other  varmints, 
not  to  mention  de  heads  uv  niggers  ef  dey  got  ob- 
streperus. 

"Wai,  sah,  bright  an'  early  de  nex'  mornin'  heah 
cum  three  mighty  obstreperus  lookin'  niggers,  ridin' 
hosses  dey'd  stole  endurin'  de  wah,  an'  lookin'  pow'ful 
solumn.  Dey  rid  in  de  fiel'  an'  up  to  whar  we  wus  an' 
one  uv  'em  sez: 

"Sah,  I's  Cicero  Caesartum,  Gran'  High  Consterbul 
uv  de  Realm  uv  de  Land,  an'  dese  heah  two  gentermens 
is  Pomeroy  Patrick  an'  Brutus  Begora,  Second  an' 
Third  High  Consterbuls  as  aforesed  an'  wharfore,  an' 
we've  got  er  circum-fetcbum  fur  you  dat  calls  fur  yo' 
habeas  corpus  instanter!' 

'Whut  de  devil  do  you  coons  mean,'  sez  I,  ergittin' 
hot,  'er-ridin'  over  our  plow'd  groun',  stoppin'  our 
wuck  an'  flingin'  you  dog  latin  an'  yo'  pole  cat  perfume 
aroun'  on  de  mohnin'  air?  Ef  it's  de  English  language 
you  is  tryin'  to  speak,'  sez  I,  er-winkin'  at  Marse 
George,  'jes  listen  at  yo'  Unker  Washin'ton  speak  it 
pure  an'  ondefiled.' 

"An'  wid  dat  I  struck  er  attertude  an'  shot  dis  bolt 
into  de  solumes'  lookin'  nigger:  'Sab,'  sez  I,  'ef  de 


RECONSTRUCTION  OF  MARSE  GEORGE     225 

neiber  habiliments  uv  yo'  fundermental  equipments  wus  es 
incompaterabul  in  makiri  connecsbun  wid  de  res'  uv  yo' 
anatermy  es  de  intelectual  verbosity  uv  yo'  consterpasbun 
uv  ideas,  you'd  be  sbot  yosef  fur  indecent  exposure  of  yo' 
own  babus  corpy-us!' 

"At  dat  volley  he  coght  his  bref  an'  nearly  fell  outer 
de  saddle. 

"  'Sah/  sez  he,  'I  'rests  you  fur  contempt  uv  co'rt/ 

"  'Oh/  sez  I,  'I  pleads  g'ilty  to  de  contempt  part, 
but  whar  is  de  co'rt?' 

"  'De  Gran'  High  Consterbul  is  allers  part  uv  de 
High  Co'rt  uv  de  Ian','  sez  he,  drawin'  hissef  up  er  inch 
higher,  'an'  we  stan'  no  furrin  cuss  words  lak  yo'  done 
flung  at  us.' 

'But  de  co'rt  ain't  in  sessun,'  sez  I. 

"  Ts  in  sessun,  sah,  allers  in  sessun  sah,  I'll  have  yo' 
kno',  an'  you  am  'rested  fur  contem't  and  dis  heah 
white  man  heah,'  he  went  on,  p'intin'  to  Marse  George, 
an'  drawin'  his  cirum-cum-fetcbum  from  his  pocket 
ergin  an'  tryin'  to  read  it  upside  down,  'am  'rested  fur 
'sturbin'  de  peace  uv  de  Sunday.  Yo'  am  recited  to 
appear  at  noon  to-day,  sah,  befo'  de  Honerbul  High 
Co'rt  of  de  Tenth  Deestrick,  de  Honerbul  Rastus 
Clowers  presidin'  an'  answer  to  de  charges  er  wherein,  er 
wherefore  an'  er  whizzin' !' 

"I  bristled  up  at  dat  sassy  talk  an'  wus  about  to 
pull  him  offer  dat  hoss  an'  beat  his  High  Consterbul 
head  into  er  jelly,  when  it  dawned  on  Marse  George  dat 
it  wan't  no  joke,  but  dey  had  us  'rested  fur  shootin'  de 
day  befo'.  An'  he  put  his  han'  on  my  shoulder  an' 
tole  me  to  be  still  an'  sed  ever  so  nice  to  de  niggah: 

15 


226  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"  'Say  to  Squire  Glowers  dat  I  have  no  desire  to 
violate  de  law  uv  de  Ian',  dat  I  am  not  conshus  uv 
havin'  done  it,  an'  dat  as  er  law-abidin'  citerzen  I'll 
appear  at  de  proper  time  to  answer  de  charges  ag'in  me, 
an'  I'll  bring  him  wid  me,'  he  sed,  noddin'  at  me,  an' 
be  sponserbul  fur  his  'pearance.' 

"Wid  dat  de  High  Consterbul  bowed  three  times, 
givin'  de  millertery  s'lute  an'  rid  off. 

"Wai,  we  went,  Marse  George  fust  stickin'  his  two 
Colts  in  his  belt  to  have  'em  ready  in  case  de  Co'rthouse 
cought  on  fiah.  Mighty  nigh  ever'  nigger  in  de 
deestrickwusdar  to  see  er  nigger  judge  try  er  white  man. 
De  house  wus  packed,  even  de  winders  wus  full.  De 
temple  uv  jestice  dat  day  looked  lak  er  rookery  uv  crows 
an'  smelt  er  lettle  mo'  sivigerus  than  it  looked. 

"When  Squire  Rastus  Glowers  cum  in  he  wus  so 
black  dey  had  to  light  de  co'rthouse  candle  to  see  de 
crowd.  He  tuck  his  seat  wid  great  dignerty  an'  cum 
down  on  de  table  wid  er  gravel  an'  sed: 

"  'O  yes,  O  yes,  de  Honerbul  Rastus  Glowers  am 
now  in  sessun.  Fetch  in  de  witnesses!' 

1  'Ef  yo'  Honor  please,'  sez  de  High  Conster 
bul,  Ts  got  'em  all  chained  out  in  de  thicket  to 
saplin's/ 

'  'Dat's  right,'  sez  His  Honor,  'but  you  can  now 
fetch  'em  in  an'  let  de  chains  cum  wid  'em.  Sol- 
ermun  in  all  his  glory,'  sez  he,  er  glarin'  aroun'  at 
de  gapin'  niggahs  dar,  'had  not  de  powah  dat  dis 
co'rt  has.' 

"  By  an'  by  heah  cum  de  witnesses  wid  de  chains  on 
'em.  Sah,  I  nearly  fell  over.  Dat  fool  Co'rt  had  tuck 


RECONSTRUCTION  OF  MARSE  GEORGE  227 

ever'  one  of  dem  niggah  witnusses  an'  had  'em  chained 
each  one  to  er  saplin'  in  de  woods.  Dey  cum  in  wid 
clankin'  chains,  makin'  er  turrubul  'pressive  noise  an' 
duly  impressin'  all  de  niggahs  dar. 

"  'Stan  up!'  sez  de  Co'rt,  an'  dey  all  riz  holdin'  up 
dey  han's  wid  de  chains  still  on  'em.  'Do  yo'  solumnly 
swear,'  sez  de  Co'rt,  'in  de  presence  uvMe  an'  Almighty 
Gawd  to  tell  de  truth,  de  whole  truth  an'  nothin'  but 
de  truth?' 

"Which  dey  did  an'  sot  down. 

"  'Let  de  pris'ner  at  de  bar  stan'  up,'  sez  de  Co'rt  to 
Marse  George,  an'  Marse  George  stood  up,  smilin'  kindly 
among  all  dem  niggahs,  an'  lookin'  lak  er  thurrerbred 
in  er  mule  pen. 

"  'Have  yo'  got  enything  to  say,  sah,'  sed  he  er  glarin' 
at  Marse  George,  'why  de  sentence  uv  dis  co'rt  should 
not  be  passed  upon  you  an'  de  writ  of  cercberarity 
executed  on  yo'  body?" 

"  'Why,  yes,  may  it  please  de  Co'rt,  I'd  lak  ter  kno' 
fur  whut  I's  charged  wid,'  sez  Marse  George. 

"  'Lem  me  see  de  papers,  Mistah  High  Consterbul,' 
sez  de  Co'rt,  an'  lookin'  lak  he  forgot  dat  part  of  it: 
'Dis  am  er  writ  uv  cimm-cum-fetcbum,'  sez  he,  'enjoined 
by  de  Suv'renty  uv  de  High  Co'rt  uv  de  Lan'  fur  de 
crime,  fellerny  and  misdemeanor  uv  shootin'  on  de 
Sabbath  agin  de  peace  an'  dignerty  uv  de  Ian'.' 

"'I'd  like  to  see  dat  section  uv  de  code, 'sez  Marse 
George,  'dat  sez  it's  er  violation  uv  de  law  to  shoot  on 
de  Sabbath  onless  in  sech  distance  to  er  house  uv 
worship  to  disturb  it/ 

"De  Co'rt  grabbed  his  code  an'  begin  to  hunt  fer  it. 


228  "UNCLE  WASH" 

Up  an'  down  an'  over  pages  he  run  his  finger,  de  sweat 
standin'  on  his  face,  an'  Marse  George  waitin'  pashuntly 
At  last  he  sed:  'It  am  de  'cision  uv  dis  High  Co'rt  dat 
it  can't  jes'  zactly  put  his  finger  on  de  spot  sayin'  it  am 
er  fellerny  to  shoot  on  de  Sabbath,  but  de  rule  of  con 
sanguinerty  an'  nex'  uv  kin  allers  prevails  in  er  case  lak 
dis,  bein'  under  de  rule  uv  nullius  fillius  an*  guverned 
by  de  law  of  consanguinerty  uv  blood  an'  de  nex'  uv 
kin.  Now  I  finds  de  nex'  uv  kin  right  heah  in  secshun 
49  dat  it  ain't  lawful  to  sell  licker  on  de  Sabbath,  an'  de 
Co'rt  am  uv  de  'pinion  dat  it's  jes'  es  bad  to  shoot  on 
de  Sabbath  es  it  am  to  sell  licker,  it  bein'  in  accordance 
wid  de  law  uv  consanguinerty  dat  shootin'  allers  follers 
de  whiskey,  an'  so  we'll  go  to  trial  on  de  charge  of 
sellin'  whiskey/ 

"  'You  can't  do  that/  sez  Marse  George  kindly. 

"  'I  can't?'  sez  de  Co'rt  erglarin'  at  him.  'Wai,  jes 
watch  me  do  it,  an'  be  keerful  yo'  don't  use  no  mo' 
superpulative  remarks  to  dis  co'rt  or  I'll  find  yo'  fur 
contempt/ 

"  'I  appeals  from  yo'  rulin'  to  de  Cirkit  Co'rt/  sez 
Marse  George. 

"  'I  finds  yo'  five  dollars  fer  sinnatin'  dat  eny  body 
kin  'peal  from  dis  Co'rt,'  sed  de  judge. 

"  'I  asks  fur  er  change  uv  venue/  sed  Marse  George, 
very  low-like  in  his  voice — mighty  low,  but  I'd  1'arned 
it  allers  come  befo'  some  mighty  high  actin/ 

"  Til  hav  yo'  to  kno',  sah,  dat  dis  Co'rt  nurver 
changes  enything/ 

"  'I  see  it  don't/  sez  Marse  George,  'not  even  it's 
linen/ 


RECONSTRUCTION  OF  MARSE  GEORGE  229 

"  'I  find  yo'  ten  mo'  dollars  fur  contempt  uv  co'rt/ 
he  glared  an'  looked  grandly  over  de  bunch  uv  niggahs 
dat  grinned  back  an'  seem  to  enjoy  it. 

Til  nurver  pay  it/  sed  Marse  George,  risin'  up  an' 
shakin'  his  finger  in  de  Co'rt's  face. 

"  I  seed  sum  niggahs  begin  to  crowd  up,  cussin'  an' 
spittin'  fur  er  fight,  an'  I  thort  we  wus  sho  in  fur  it. 

;  'I  finds  yo'  er  hundred  mo'  yells  de  Co'rt,  'an'  I 
orders  de  Consterbul  to  take  yo'  to  jail  till  it's  paid/ 
an'  he  riz  up,  glared  at  Marse  George  an'  pounded  de 
gravel  whilst  de  niggahs  crowded  up  lak  wolves  aroun' 
er  hamstrung  steer. 

"  But  Marse  George  riz  about  de  same  time  wid  fight 
in  his  eyes,  an'  aftah  makin'  er  few  very  unkomplemen- 
try  remarks  in  language  dat  I  don't  want  to  put  in  de 
record,  he  lowed  dat  dey  wan't  ernurT  niggahs  in  dat 
co'rt  dat  could  do  it,  an'  quick  es  er  flash  he  pulled  both 
guns,  levelin'  on  de  Co'rt  fust.  I  heard  er  wild  scramble 
uv  niggahs  fur  de  do'  an'  winder  an'  I  seed  de  Co'rt 
dodge  down  under  de  bench  an'  heurd  it  holler  es  it 
bobbed  up  an'  down: 

'Don't  shoot,  white  man,  I'll  giv  yo'  er  change  uv 
venom!' 

'  'Sit  up,  then/  sez  Marse  George,  but  still  holdin'  his 
gun  on  de  judge,  'an'  let  me  put  de  motion  properly 
befo'  de  Co'rt.' 

"  'Sartinly,  sah/  sez  de  judge,  bobbin'  up,  'jes  so  yo' 
don't  shoot.' 

'I  now  moves/  sez  Marse  George,  'dat  de  pris'ner 
at  de  bar  be  released.' 

"  'I  second  dat  motion/  sez  I,  mighty  peartly. 


230  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"Dis  sounded  like  good  law  to  de  judge,  an'  he  sez: 
'It  am  moved  and  seconded;  dat  de  prisoner  at  debar 
be  released.  All  in  favor  uv  dat  moshun  say  aye' 

"An'  ev'y  niggah  dar  dat  wan't  already  out  behind 
er  tree,  yelled  'aye.' 

'It  am  so  ordered/  sed  de  Co'rt. 

"An*  me  an'  Marse  George  walked  out." 


HIS  FIRST  KU-KLUX 

"  A  FTER  de  niggers  wus  sot  free,"  said  de  old  man 
J\  when  I  asked  him  for  a  Ku-Klux  story,  "dey 
wus  lak  sheep  widout  er  leader,  an'  didn't  kno'  jes  whut 
to  do.  Menny  uv  'em  tho'rt  somebody  wus  gwinter 
tak  keer  uv  us — lak  es  not  Marse  Lincoln — jes  lak  ole 
Marster  useter  do — an'  so  dey  loafed  erroun'  till  dey 
mighty  nigh  starve,  waitin'  fur  de  forty  acres  uv  Ian' 
an'  de  mule  dat  had  been  promised  'em  fur  votin'  wid  de 
'Publicans.  Now,  when  fo'ks  ain't  wuckin'  dey 
nachully  gits  into  mischeef.  But  it  ain't  easy  fur  one 
man  to  git  into  mischeef  by  hisse'f,  he  has  to  have  he'p, 
an'  freed  niggers  flock  together  es  nachully  es  black 
birds.  An'  in  de  flockin'  is  de  mischeef  brewed. 

"Dey  fus'  begun  to  get  together  in  dese  heah  dis 
tracted  meetin's,  an'  dar's  whar  all  de  raskality  had  its 
beginnin'." 

"  I'll  haveter  tell  you  'bout  dese  heah  meetin's  es 
dey  wus  de  wust  orgies  enybody  ever  seed  out  uv  de 
jungle,  tho'  they  went  fur  church  meetin'.  Ever  night 
de  niggers  would  meet  thar  an'  sech  carryin'  on  under 
de  name  uv  'ligun  you  nurver  seed!  Dar  would  gen 
erally  be  four  preachers  an'  they  'ud  preach  all 
night.  T'wards  midnight  dey'd  all  git  warmed  up 
an'  den  de  women  'ud  go  into  de  'ligun  dance, 
shoutin',  singin'  an'  turnin'  'round  an'  'round  till  dey 
fell  into  de  trance.  Dey'd  stay  in  dis  trance  some 
time  two  days  an'  nights  an'  when  they'd  come  to, 

(231) 


232  "UNCLE  WASH" 

they'd  have  de  awfulles  tale  to  tell  which  dey  call  dey 
experunce.  Dis  experunce  'ud  make  yo'  blood  freeze. 
Dey  nearly  allers  went  fus'  to  hell  whar  Satan  'ud 
take  them  erroun'  an'  sho'  'em  de  pits  uv  fiah  full  uv 
de  damned.  Sometimes  he'd  hoi  'em  over  dese  pits 
er-grinnin'  an'  threatenin'  'em  wid  fiah  if  they  didn't 
'knowledge  him  an'  forsake  de  Lawd.  When  dey'd 
broke  erway  frum  him  an'  run  off  in  de  woods  to  pray, 
Satan  'ud  foller  'em  an'  tho  he  cudn't  tech  'em  whilst 
dey  prayer  wus  on— kase  he  cudn't  break  de  spell  uv 
prayer  an'  he  cudn't  tech  eny  one  dat  wus  prayin',  still 
he'd  git  behin'  'em  in  de  woods  an'  bark  lak  er  wolf 
an'  break  down  trees  wid  er  turribul  noise  an'  do  all  he 
cud  to  distract  dey  minds  an'  break  up  de  prayer  so 
he  cud  lay  han's  on  'em  ergin.  ' 

"But  ef  you  prayed  on  you  wus  all  right  fur  de 
angul  'ud  come  an'  take  you  up  to  heab'n  an'  sho  you 
de  glories  uv  hit.  I's  knowed  'em  to  be  in  er  trance 
two  days  an'  nights  an'  when  dey  come  to,  they  'ud 
tell  tales  uv  hell  dat  'ud  warm  de  kinks  outen  de  other 
niggers  ha'r. 

"In  all  uv  dese  meetin's  dar  wus  allers  brothers 
pinted  by  de  preacher  dat  we  call  de  Holders.  Dar 
bizness  wus  to  hoi'  de  sisters  when  dey  git  to  dancin' 
an'  shoutin'  an'  see  dat  dey  didn't  hurt  deyself.  Den 
when  dey  went  into  de  trance  we'd  hafter  lay  'em  out 
on  de  grass  till  dey  cum  to. 

"Uv  dese  Holders  I  wus  generally  de  most  pop 
ular. 

"One  night  Sister  Tilly  went  into  er  turribul  trance 
an'  didn't  kno  nuffm.  She  wus  spinnin'  erroun'  an* 


HIS  FIRST  KU-KLUX  233 

shoutin'  an'  entirely  outer  her  head  an*  singin'  er  song 
dat  run: 

/  don't  want  to  live  in  dis  lan't 
I  want  to  live  in  Heaben! 

"  Jes  fo'  she  fell  in  de  trance  Brer  Peter  he  run  up  to 
hoi'  her  an'  she  sung  out; 

Don't  want  Br'er  Peter  to  bol'  me 
I  want  Br'er  Wash  to  hot'  me! 

"  'Cose  I  hilt  her! 

"Dis  same  Sis  Tilly  cum  mighty  nigh  breakin'  up 
de  meetin'  dat  night.  Some  fool  niggers  tuck  her  out 
when  she  went  into  her  trance  an'  laid  her  on  de  grass 
on  de  slope  uv  de  little  hill.  Ef  she'd  laid  still  she'd  er 
bin'  all  right  but  she  went  to  kickin'  an'  rollin'  erroun' 
out  dar  an'  rolled  down  into  er  groun'-hornet's  nes'. 

"Wai,  sah,  you  never  seed  enybody  cum  outen 
er  trance  es  quick  es  Sis  Tilly !  She  cum  bilin'  into  de 
church  whar  all  uv  'em  wus  gwine  on,  an'  stid  uv 
comin'  wid  prayers  she  cum  er  cussin'.  She  jes  wanted 
to  see  de  fool  niggahs  dat  laid  her  by  dat  hornet's  nes', 
an'  when  she  seed  'em  she  lit  on  one  uv  'em  wid  tooth 
an'  toe-nail.  Dat  niggah  had  er  wife  an'  she  lit  back 
on  Sis  Tilly  an'  pretty  soon  ever  'oman  in  dar  dat 
wan't  in  er  trance  wus  in  er  fight.  Dey  fit  fur  er  hour 
an'  when  it  wus  all  over  dey  wan't  nuffm  left  but  de 
preacher  an'  he  had  dumb  frum  de  pulpit  up  into  de 
rafters  uv  de  church  an'  looked  lak  er  ole  possum  on  er 
grapevine.  Ever  now  an'  den  he'd  call  out :  'Be  quiet 
sisters — peace,  be  still!' 


234  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"  It  raised  sech  er  racket  dat  Squire  Glowers,  de  same 
Jestus  dat  tried  Marse  George,  had  us  all  up  befo'  him 
fur  disturbin'  'ligus  sarvices.  But  we  proves  to  him 
hit  wus  er  festerful  dat  night  an'  we  paid  at  de  do'  an' 
hit  jes  got  turned  into  er  meetin'  by  chance.  Soon  es 
he  heard  dat  he  sed : 

"  'Who  tuck  in  de  funds,'  sez  he. 

"  'De  do-keeper,'  sez  I,  'Brer  Peter/ 

'Wai,  den,'  sez  he,  'I  fines  Brer  Peter  on  de  groun' 
dat  he  ortenter  let  in  foks  dat  is  liabul  to  fight.' 

"Dat  sounded  lak  good  law,  but  I  allers  tho'rt  he 
fined  Brer  Peter  kose  he  wus  de  onlies  one  dat  had  de 
funds. 

"Wai,  dese  meetin's  went  on  till  by  an'  by  dey 
turned  into  orgies  uv  devil  worship  an'  stealin.'  All  de 
meanness  uv  de  naborhood  fur  miles  wus  traced  to 
dese  meetin's.  Frum  dese  meetin's  niggers  went  to 
steal  an'  burn  white  fo'ks  barns,  kose  all  de  time  dar 
wus  white  carpet-baggers  in  de  Ian'  sicken  'em  on  to 
aggervate  de  white  foks.  Dese  carpet-bagging  men 
voted  'em  lak  sheep  an'  hilt  all  de  officers,  fur  our 
white  foks  cudn't  vote  under  de  law. 

"I  knowed  sumpin'  nurr  gwineter  happen  an'  hit 
did  happen  when  ole  man  Jones,  er  good  ole  white  man, 
wus  waylaid  an'  robbed  an'  killed  in  his  own  yard. 

"Now  whenever  er  nigger  do  eny  mean  thing,  hit 
ain't  er  day  befo'  ever*  uther  nigger  in  dat  settlement 
knows  who  done  hit  an'  nary  one  of  'em  will  ever 
tell  on  him. 

"  Hit's  es  nachul  fur  er  nigger  to  hide  his  criminals  es 
it  is  fur  er  wolf  to  hide  her  young.  !  knows  es  well  es 


HIS  FIRST  KU-KLUX  235 

I  am  er  ole  man  an'  er  nigger  myself,  dat  every  nigger 
in  dat  Brownville  Kumpany  knows  who  shot  up 
Brownville,  but  nary  one  uv'em  will  tell  ef  he  wus  up 
to  be  shot  fur  hit. 

"An'  so  before  night  we  all  knowed  it  wus  Kit  dat 
killed  an'  robbed  ole  man  Jones. 

"Dat  night  when  de  meetin'  wus  at  full  blast  I  seed 
my  fus  Ku-Klux.  An'  ever  nigger  dar  seed  'em,  too, 
an'  nurver  will  fergit  it. 

"De  moon  wus  shinin'  when  we  seed,  fru  de  church 
winders,  er  kompany  uv  ghost-horsemen  ride  outen  de 
woods. 

"Dey  cum  slow  an'  solum  one  behin*  de  y udder, 
dressed  in  long  white  shrouds  dat  kivered  dem  an* 
dey  even  had  dey  horse  skivered  with  ghost  clothes. 
Dey  wus  ghost-men  on  ghost-horses,  that  cum  out 
uv  de  woods  from  no  whar  an'  es  they  rode  erlong  dey 
nurver  se'd  er  word  nur  made  er  sign.  Hit  wus  de 
awfulles'  sight  I  ever  seed. 

"  Befo'  we  cud  break  outen  de  doors  an'  winders  an* 
git  erway  dey  had  marched  es  solum  es  death  erroun' 
de  log  church  an'  had  us  swronded.  Den,  widout  er 
word,  but  at  de  sign  uv  de  grave-leader,  dey  faced  de 
church  an'  stood  solum  es  tombstones.  Niggers  turned 
white  dat  night  dat  had  been  bohn  black  befo'  day 
light.  Some  went  under  de  benches  but  de  mos'  uv  'em 
wus  froze  to  de  bench.  Den  whut  you  reckon?  Dat 
leader  wus  on  er  fine  hoss  dat  had  sense  lak  er  man,  fur 
he  rid  him  right  in  de  church  do'  an'  cum  down  de  'ile, 
tramp,  tramp,  tramp  es  solum  es  Gabriel  on  er  hoss  uv 
fiah. 


236  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"One  look  wus  nuff  fur  ever  niggah  dar.  Dat  grave- 
man  on'  dat  grave-hoss,  an'  not  er  word  comin'  frum  de 
man,  an'  not  er  soun'  frum  de  boss  cept  his  tramp, 
tramp,  es  he  walked  up  de  'ile.  Some  whispered  at 
it  wus  de  angul  on  de  fiery  steed,  but  ole  man  Pete,  de 
oldes'  nigger  in  de  flock,  he  sed  out  loud : 

"  'Hit's  ole  Marster  dat  wus  kilt  in  de  war!' 

"De  grave-man  muster  heurd  him,  fur  he  turned 
his  hoss  at  de  pulpit  an'  faced  de  crowd  an'  pinted  wid 
his  long  bony  finger  fur  de  water  bucket. 

"Some  nigger,  mighty  nigh  skeered  to  death,  handed 
it  to  him  an'  fo'  Gawd,  sah,  he  jes  drunk  off  de  full 
bucket  at  one  drink ! 

"Den  he  sed  in  er  deep  low  voice  dat  seem  to  cum 
frum  de  bowels  uv  de  hoss  he  rid : 

"  'Thanks,  friend!  I  ain't  had  no  watah  since  I  wus 
kilt  in  de  fust  battle  uv  Shiloh.' 

"  'Hit's  ole  Marster— Gawd,  I  sed  so!'  sed  ole  Pete 
es  he  made  er  dive  fur  de  hole  whar  er  plank  wus  up  in 
de  flo'. 

"  'It  is  /,'  sed  dat  same  deep  voice.     'Pete  is  right!' 

"Den  he  pinted  his  bony  finger  at  Kit  dat  wus 
seem  to  be  dazed  an'  sed: 

"  'Kit,  murderer  uv  ole  man  Jones,  prepare  to  meet 
yo'  Gawd!' 

"He  beckin  to  Kit  an'  dat  mean  niggah  walks  up  to 
him  jes  like  er  lamb,  he  cudn't  no  mo'  he'p  it  den  he 
cud  fly.  He  wus  ashy  an'  shakin',  but  he  marched 
up  an'  when  de  leader  pinted  to  de  do',  Kit  marched 
out,  de  grave-man  an'  hoss  follerin'  him. 

"We  seed  'em  circle  roun'   Kit  an'  den  de  whole 


THEN  HE  PINTED  His  BONY  FINGER  AT  KIT. 


HIS  FIRST  KU-KLUX  237 

company  uv  ghosts  marched  off  wid  Kit  to  de  woods, 
no  man  makin'  er  soun'  but  jes  de  tramp  tramp,  tramp 
uv  de  hosses. 

"We  lost  no  time  gittin'  out  uv  dat  church,  some 
even  gwine  through  de  roof  es  dey  wus  already  up  in 
de  rafters. 

"De  nex'  day  we  found  Kit's  body  swingin'  to  er 
lim'  in  de  woods  an'  pinned  on  hit  wus  dat  strange 
sign,  K.  K.  K.  which  we  afterwu'ds  larn'd  meant 
KLU-KLUX  KLAN. 

"An*  dat  settled  de  meetin's  an*  de  meanness  in 
dat  settlement  fur  good." 


UNCLE  WASH  AT  THE  FAIR 

THE  county  fairs  have  been  in  full  blast  in  Tenn 
essee  this  fall,  but  I  did  not  know  that  Uncle  Wash 
had  been  off  trying  to  run  one  until  he  ambled  into  my 
study  the  other  night,  the  hungriest-looking,  most 
woe-begone  darky  in  Tennessee.  He  had  rheumatism 
in  his  back,  mesmerism  in  his  head  and  a  have-you-got- 
any-cold-victuals  kind  of  a  look  spread  over  his 
countenance.  I  thought  he  had  been  through  the 
famine  in  India  and  had  floated  home  on  the  gang 
plank  of  a  wrecked  vessel. 

"Look  erheah,  boss,"  he  said,  as  soon  as  he  had 
stuck  his  head  in  the  doorway,  as  if  trying  to  distract 
attention  from  his  own  looks,  "  I  jes'  cum  over  to  ax 
you  is  de  gol'-bug  de  microbe  uv  de  yaller  fever/' 

"Why,  no/'  I  said.  "It's  a  different  disease 
altogether. " 

"Wai,  jes'  tell  me,  den,"  he  said  emphatically, 
"when  dat  wave  uv  prosperity  gwine  ter  git  out'n  de 
three-minnit  class,  enyway — jes'  tell  me!" 

As  this  was  too  much  for  me,  I  had  to  take  the  old 
man's  sarcasm  and  say  nothing. 

"I  tell  you,  sah,"  he  went  on,  "when  er  man  starts 
out  on  er  campain  on  de  circus  whar  I  b'en,  wid  er 
stable  uv  hosses,  he  better  take  'is  dinner  an'  'is 
'possum  dorg  erlong  wid  'im,  or  he'll  go  hongry  sho!" 

I  looked  at  the  old  man  in  astonishment.  When  I 
had  seen  him  last,  he  was  fat  and  hearty. 

"Where  have  you  been?"  I  asked,  "that  you  should 
(238) 


UNCLE  WASH  AT  THE  FAIR  239 

bob  up  in  this  well-fed  neighborhood  looking  like  an 
old  horse  led  off  to  the  shambles?" 

"Hit  all  cum  erbout  dis  way,"  said  the  old  man 
shamefacedly.  "You  see,  I  dun  b'en  out  on  er  cam- 
pian.  De  cullud  fo'ks  gin  er  fair  down  in  Giles  County 
an*  I  thort  I'd  go  down,  take  my  ol'  pie-ball  pacer  an' 
rake  in  all  de  filthy  luker  floatin'  erroun  dar.  You 
see,"  he  said  proudly,  "my  ol'  hoss  hoi'  er  worP  record 
— he  am  an'  'only.'  ' 

"How  so?"  I  asked  in  feigned  surprise. 

"  He  am  de  only  hoss  in  de  worF  dat  has  er  record  uv 
2:29,  er  curb,  two  spavins  an'  er  glass  eye!  Dar  am  er 
hoss  in  Ingyanner  dat  hav  er  record  uv  2:29,  er  curb, 
one  spavin  an'  er  glass  eye,  but  he  ain't  in  it  wid  my 
ol'  Pie  Ball.  Yas,  sah,  dat's  de  wurl's  record  he  hoi's. 
An'  so,  ez  I  wus  sayin'l  I  thort  I'd  jes'  go  down  an' 
rake  in  dat  filthy  luker  wid  'im.  I  didn't  have  no 
harness,  but  I  happen  ter  think  erbout  de  little  red-an'- 
white  steer  dat  died  so  handy-lak  las'  winter  jes'  in 
time  fer  me  ter  feed  all  de  preachers  dat  filled  my 
house  endurin'  de  deestrick  conferdence, "  the  old  man 
winked,  "an'  I  made  er  mighty  good  set  uv  harness 
outen  his  hide.  You  see,  I  didn't  have  time  ter  git  de 
ha'r  offen  it,  an'  when  my  ol'  blue  pie-ball  pacer  got 
ter  pacin'  fas'  down  dar  erroun'  dat  track,  I  tell  you, 
sah,  hit  wus  de  pooties'  sight  you  ever  seed —  he  made 
er  red-white-an'-blue  streak  cl'ar  'roun'  dat  track,  an' 
de  niggers  all  hoorayed  an'  say  he  look  lak  de  speerit 
uv  Star  P'inter  wrap'd  in  de  flag  uv  our  country, 
an'  gwine  in  1 159!!  I's  patentid  dat  idee  in  harness, 
an'  I's  gwine  ter  use  it  nex'  yeah  furspeckicle  effecV 


240  "UNCLE  WASH" 

I  looked  interested,  and  the  old  man  came  in  and 
sat  down  in  his  usual  chair,  near  the  door. 

"Wai,  but  whar  to  git  de  sulky  wus  de  naix  question. 
Arter  thinkin'  over  it  I  des  remembered  dat  Brer  Moses 
Armstrong  had  married  de  widder  Johnson's  buxomes' 
gal  las'  fall  an'  he  had  bin  er-haulin'  truck  ter  town  in 
er  ole  high-wheel  sulky  dat  Marse  Ed  Geers  use  ter 
train  ole  Hal  P'inter  wid  at  de  ole  track  down  by  de 
crick.  Now,  I  knowed  whut  Brer  Moses  would  soon 
need  wuss'n  enything  in  dis  worl',  an'  so  I  swop  'im 
dat  ole  ellum  cradle  dat  me  an'  Dinah  done  raise  all  de 
chillun  in,  fer  dat  sulky.  An'  when  I  hitch  ol'  Pie  Ball 
up,  sah,  he  ack  dat  proud  an'  sassy  I  felt  mighty  nigh 
es  good  es  er  buxum  widder  angel  in  er  paradise  uv 
bal'-haided  men.  I  knowed  all  de  excheckers  uv  dat 
Giles  County  fair  wus  jes'  es  good  es  reposited  in  de 
cash  drawer  uv  my  britches  pocket  an'  I  jes'  lit  out  fer 
Giles  County  wid  great  expectashuns  in  de  sulky  an' 
ol'  Pie  Ball  in  de  shaf's. 

"But  when  I  got  down  dar,  sah,  whut  you  reckin 
dem  niggers  dun  dar?  Dar  wus  er  mighty  crowd  uv 
'em  at  de  fair  groun's,  an'  de  fus'  thing  I  seed  wus  dis 
paper  stuck  up  all  over  de  groun's,  an'  on  de  trees  an' 
fences, "  and  the  old  man  pulled  out  an  old-time  poster 
headed  with  a  darky  leading  an  ass,  whose  ears  were 
longer  than  his  legs.  I  looked  and  it  read; 

CULLURD  FO'KS  ERTENSHUN! 

Gran*  picknick  an'  free-fur-all  race  at  der  race  track 
nex'  Sat'dy.  Ladies  an'  gents,  widders  an'  yaller  gals, 
'specially  invited  to  percipertate,  but  babies  an' 


UNCLE  WASH  AT  THE  FAIR  241 

Meferdis'     preechers    barred.     De    followin'     fam'us 
drivers  wid  deir  bosses  will  be  dar: 

Free-fur-all    race.     Purse,   Br'er  Shadrack  Lewis's 
Coon  Dorg. 

Pie  Ball  B.  R.  G.  G.  N.  H.  H 

Br'er  Washington. 

Limber  Jim  B.  M.  K.  P.  L.  D 

Br'er  Simon  Suggs. 

Kuntry  Sawsage  G.  J.  N.  S.  U.  D.  B 

Br'er  Lay  Low. 

Admisshun  loc;  but  eny  gent  escortin'  er  yaller 
legged  chicken  er  gal  kin  cum  in  free. 

DE  CUMMITTY. 

"That's  plain  enough,"  I  laughed,  as  I  handed  him 
back  the  poster,  "  but  all  these  letters  after  the  entries — 
what  do  they  mean?" 

"Oh,  dat's  patentid,"  said  the  old  man,  "dat's 
plain  ernough— dat's  plain  ernough.  Dem  letters  am 
new  things  on  de  track  an'  am  dead  good  tips  to  de 
crowd.  Don't  you  know  whut  Pie  Ball,  B.  R.  G.  G. 
N.  H.  H.  means? "  he  asked.  "  Why  it  means,  Pie  Ball, 
Blue  Roan  Gelding,  Got  No  Holes  in  Him!"  ' 

"Ah,  I  see  now,"  I  said,  "and  the  other  is  Limber 
Jim,  bay  mare — " 

"No,  suh,"  cried  the  old  man,  "you  wrong  ergin. 
De  naix  one  means,  'Limber  Jim,  Bay  Mule,  Kin  Pace 
Lak  De  Devil/  an'  de  las'  one  am  'Kuntry  Sawsage, 
Gray  Jinny,  Not  Skeered  uv  De  Ban !'  An'  dat's  whut 
made  me  mad,"  went  on  the  old  man;  "  I  'spected  ter 
meet  bosses,  not  mules  and  jinnies  an'  I  raised  er 

16 


242  "UNCLE  WASH" 

mighty  kick.  I  driv  up  ter  er  nigger  settin'  sidewize 
in  de  saddle  on  er  ole  gray  mule  in  front  uv  de  j edge's 
stan'.  Sez  I  sorter  mad-lak: 

'Mister,  whar  am  de  seckerterry  uv  dis  associashun, 
an'  whar  am  his  headquarters?' 

"  He  drawed  hisse'f  up  an'  say,  sorter  bitter-lak: 
'  'Ef  you  contemplates  formulatin'  eny  interro- 
gashuns  consarnin'  de  regulashuns  uv  dis  'sociashun. 
suh,  I  begs  ter  circumnavergate  eny  previ'us  dis 
quietude  by  info'min'  you  dat  /  am  de  seckerterry, 
suh,  an'  my  haidquartahs  am  in  de  saddle,  suh !' 

"  I  shot  er  dagger  look  at  'im  an'  sez  I,  quiet-lak: 
1  'I  knowed  you  wus  er  damfool,  soon  ez  I  seed  yer, 
but  I  thort  you  knowed  de  difT'unce  twixt  yo'  haid 
quartahs  an'  yo'  tailquartahs,  sah!'  An'  den  I  lit 
inter  dat  nigger  an'  dat  associashun !  I  tol'  'em  I  fotch 
my  famous  hoss  all  de  way  down  dar  ter  race  ergin 
bosses,  not  mules  an'  jinnies,  an'  fur  mutiny,  not  coon 
dorgs  an'  chitlin's.  But  de  fools  up  in  de  jedges' 
stan' — an'  you  know  it  am  de  easies'  place  in  de  woiT 
fur  fools  ter  git  inter — 'lowed  dat  dat  wus  er  pacin' 
race,  an'  dis  wus  de  Ian'  uv  de  free  an'  home  uv  de 
pacin'  hoss,  an'  bofe  de  jinny  an'  de  mule  would  make 
me  think  dey  sho'ly  had  de  right  ter  compete  fer  de 
coon  dawg. 

"  'But  how  you  'spec'  me,  ef  I  win/  sez  I,  'ter  feed 
my  hoss  an'  me  wid  er  coon  dorg?  I  kain't  eat  'im/ 
sez  I. 

"  'Dat's  all  right,  Br'er  Washington/  sedde  jedges, 
'but  sense  de  gol'-bugs  dun  cohnered  all  de  munny  in 
de  kuntry,  we  hafter  git  back  ter  fus'  principles,  an'  so 


UNCLE  WASH  AT  THE  FAIR  243 

we  make  coon  dorgs  en  sech  things  our  mejums  uv 
exchange.  An'  I  tells  you  right  now  dat  er  coon  dorg 
am  good  fur  ten  dollars'  wuf  uv  sawsages  enny  day  in 
dese  parts.  Why,  you  am  bettah  off  dan  de  2:24 
pace/  sez  he — "dat's  payable  in  chitlin's  an'  tuckey 
tails.' 

"Wai,  I  seed  I  wus  in  it,  an'  es  I  wanted  er  good 
coon  dorg  enyway,  an  de  widder  Johnson  dat  I  wus 
kinder  seekin'  arter  hed  cum  out  ter  see  me  win,  I  jes'  's 
well  make  de  bes'  uv  hit,  so  I  hook  up  ol'  Pie  Ball  an' 
cum  out  on  de  track.  An'  Law  bless  yo'  soul,  you  jes' 
orter  seen  de  'plaws  we  got ! 

"  But  hit  made  me  mad  when  dat  blamed  ol'  pacin' 
mule  an'  jinny  cum  out  on  de  track.  Befo'  dey  even 
gib  us  de  wurd,  dat  ol'  mule  tuck  ter  buckin'  an'  er- 
snortin',  an'  she  skeered  ol'  Pie  Ball  so  he  run  inter 
widder  Johnson,  dat  I  wus  courtin'  an'  hed  cum  out 
ter  see  me  in  all  my  glory;  hit  'er  square  in  de  stummick 
stept  on  her  fifth  wheel,  an'  punctured  her  tire — least 
wise  dat's  whut  I  heerd  'em  say!  De  ole  lady  fainted 
an'  dey  had  ter  take  her  off  an'  blow  her  up  ag'in — 
leastwise,  dat's  whut  dey  tol'  me.  An'  she  ain't  spoke 
to  me  sence!  Dey  had  tu'k  de  coon  dorg  up  in  de 
jedges'  stan' — to  he'p  jedge  de  race,  I  'spec' — ar/  es 
we  cum  by  in  all  our  glory,  dar  he  set,  lookin'  mighty 
nachul-lak  an'  happy,  an'  hit  tickled  him  so  he  barked 
lak  er  ol'  army  petard  jes'  es  we  got  op'site  'im,  an'  it 
skeered  ol'  Pie  Ball  so  he  paced  clean  over  de  fence, 
an'  back  ergin  an'  den  beat  de  gang  home  two  links. 
Oh,  I  wus  sho'  proud!  But  when  I  got  back,  whut  you 
reckin  dem  fool  jedges  say  to  me? 


244  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"Dey  say:  'Br'er  Washington,  we  fine  you  er  poun' 
uv  terbacker  fur  layin'  up  dat  heat/ 

'  'Good  Heben,  genTmen/  sez  I,  'I  didn't  lay  up 
no  heat — I  won  it/ 

1  'De  new  rule  say  you  shain't  lay  up  no  heat,  don't 
it,  suh?'  sed  de  jedges. 

'  'In  cose  it  do,  but  I  didn't  lay  up  no  heat;  I  won 
it,  I  tell  you/ 

"  'Br'er  Washington,  you  don't  ketch  us.     When 
you  lay  up  er  dollar  you  save  it,  don't  you?' 
'Yes/  sez  I. 

'Wai,  you  save  dat  heat  an'  in  cose  you  lay  hit  up. 
Whut's  layin'  up  er  heat  but  savin'  it?'  sez  dey.  'In 
cose  de  heat's  yo'n,  but  we  hafter  go  by  de  rules  an' 
fine  you  jes'  de  same.  Jes'  han'  us  out  dat  poun'  er 
terbacker/  dey  say,  'or  you  don't  go  'possum  huntin' 
behin'  dat  dorg.  How  you  'spec'  'sociashuns  gwineter 
prosper  ef  dey  don't  tax  de  winner?' 

"I  wus  bilin'  mad,  an'  I  sed,  sorter  bitter-lak: 
'GenTmen,  I  means  ter  cas'  no  infecshuns  on  yo' 
feracity,  but  hadn't  you  bettah  let  de  coon  dorg  jedge 
de  res'  uv  dis  race?'  Den  I  tu'ns  off  smilin',  sarcasm- 
lak.  But  dey  didn't  min'  my  talk  ertall,  but  calls  fo' 
de  naix'  heat. 

"  Wai,  suh,  we  got  off  fur  de  naix'  heat,  but  dat  dorg- 
jedge  up  in  de  gran'  stan'  cu'dn't  keep  'is  mouf  shet  ter 
save  'is  life.  'Sides  dat,  he  cum  er  t'arin'  down  arter 
us  an'  chased  us  up  de  track  lak  er  yaller  cyclone  in  er 
barn  lof .  I'se  heerd  uv  drivers  chasin'  stakes  befo'," 
laughed  the  old  man,  "but  I  nurver  heerd  uv  de  stake 
er-chasin'  de  drivers.  Hit  skeered  ol'  Pie  Ball  inter 


UNCLE  WASH  AT  THE  FAIR  245 

er  break,  but  hit  skeered  de  ol'  mule  an*  de  jinny  into 
de  fas'es'  pace  dat  I  ever  seed  turn  er  corner!  Befo' 
I  knowed  it  dey  wus  er-goin'  down  de  track  lak  er  pair 
uv  ol'  rusty  lizards  down  er  rail  fence,  an'  ef  ever  I  had 
eny  doubt  'bout  dat  ol'  mule  an'  jinny  bein'  in  de 
free-fur-all  pacin'  class,  hit  soon  lef  me  an'  no  mistake! 
Befo'  I  knowed  hit  dey  wus  er  quahter  uv  er  mile  erhaid 
uv  me,  wid  dat  coon  dorg  still  er-chasin'  'em  an'  er- 
barkin'  an'  bofe  uv  'em  er-pacin'  lak  er  team.  De  ol' 
jinny's  ye'rs  wus  laid  back  lak  er  jack  rabbit's,  an'  de 
ol'e  mule's  wus  laid  for'ds  lak  de  cow-ketcher  uv  er 
steam  engine.  Her  tail  p'inted  to'des  de  Nawth  Stah, 
an'  his'n  to'des  de  horizon,  an'  twixt  'em,  es  long  es  de 
dorg  kep  in  de  rear,  dey  wus  er-bustin'  P'inter's  record 
all  ter  pieces.  I  reefed  an'  reefed  ol'  Pie  Ball,  but  when 
he  settled  we  wus  so  fur  behin'  we  cu'dn't  tell  which 
way  ter  go,  so  I  jes'  follered  de  coon  dorg's  bark  lak 
I  wus  out  'possum  huntin'  an'  driv  on.  An'  somebody 
hollered  out,  'Does  you  think  dey  kin  pace  now, 
Br'er  Washin'ton?'  an'  I  heerd  de  niggers  laf  lak  dey 
fall  outen  de  gran'  stan'. 

"Thinks  I  ter  myse'f,  sump'n  gotter  be  done  er  me 
an'  Pie  Ball  gwine  ter  be  beat  by  de  oneryes'  pa'r  dat 
ever  went  roun'  er  track. 

"Now,  when  you  can't  win  by  speed,  you  mus'  try 
sump'n'  else,"  said  the  old  man  sagely.  "De  bes' 
gine'als,whuther  iner  race  er  in  erwar,  am  deones  dat's 
got  brains  up  dey  sleev  es  well  es  in  dey  haids,  an'  de 
man  dat  kin  look  on  de  laws  uv  common  sense  an' 
circumsense  am  jes'  dat  much  bettah  off  dan  de  one  dat 
do  nuffin'  but  shoot  de  guns  he  happen  ter  have.  Now 


246  "UNCLE  WASH" 

when  I  wus  young  I  larned  ter  blow  my  mouf  lak  er 
dinner  hawn,  an'  when  I  seed  dey  had  me  beat,  I  jes' 
slapped  my  han'  up  ter  my  jaw  an'  sed,  'Toot — toot — 
tuu — uu — u — u!'  jes'  lak  er  dinner  hawn  fer  all  de 
worl'."  Here  the  old  man  laughed  till  he  nearly  fell 
out  of  his  chair. 

"An'  whut  you  reckin  happen?  Why  dat  blame  oT 
mule  thort  it  wus  de  dinnah  hawn  sho'  'nuff,  en  es  he 
b'en  allers  stopped  when  dat  tooted,  he  stopped  es 
quick  es  er  pewter  bullet  when  it  hits  er  mud  bank,  an' 
Br'er  Simon  Sugg  div  outen  dat  sulky  seat  lak  er 
skeered  bullfrog  huntin'  fer  water.  Den  de  ole  mule 
turn  roun'  an'  answer  dat  hawn  wid :  'Kelonk — kelank 
— kebee — ee — e — e!'  jes'  es  nachul  es  all  de  woiT. 

"An'  de  ole  jinny,"  here  the  old  man  had  another 
paroxysm  of  laughter,  "she  thort  she  recognized  dat 
voice,  hit  soun'  so  much  lak  de  mule's  daddy,  an'  she 
stopped  so  suddin  she  an'  de  sulky  bofe  kicked  up 
behin'  an'  sent  Br'er  Lay  Low  huntin'  fur  grass,  an' 
befo'  dey  knowed  it  I  paced  by  de  whole  gang  an'  lay 
up  ernur'r  heat !  Sho'  'nuff  de  fool  jedges  fine  me  erg'in, 
but  I  wus  'tarmin'd  ter  have  dat  coon  dorg  an'  I  paid 
hit  lak  er  man. 

"  'De  puss  am  yo'n,  Br'er  Washin'ton,'  said  de 
jedges;  'git  you  er  good  rope  an'  go  haul  it  in.' 

Here  the  old  man  sighed  audibly  and  showed  every 
inclination  to  stop. 

"Well,  I  hope  it  was  a  good  dog,"  I  said  sympa 
thetically. 

"Marse  John,  you  ain't  nurver  b'en  in  er  race  wid  er 
pacin'  mule,  is  you?  Wai,  you  ain't  posted  on  de 


UNCLE  WASH  AT  THE  FAIR  247 

cussedness  uv  dat  animule.  When  I  went  down  de 
stretch  ter  git  my  stake,  de  cussed  mule  had  paced 
over  him  an'  kilt  him!  My  puss  sho'  wus  daid!  I 
traded  ol'  Pie  Ball  off  fur  er  good  dinnah  en  ernuff 
munny  ter  git  home  wid,  an'  when  I  go  out  on  de  gran' 
circus  ergin  hit'll  be  ter  pace  fer  de  dollars  uv  our 
daddies  an'  not  fur  coon  dorgs  en  chitlin's."  And  the 
old  man  ambled  out  to  put  an  extra  corn  pone  and 
some  sweet  potatoes  in  the  ashes,  when  he  covered  up 
his  fire  for  the  night. 


OLD  PUNCH 

DID  you  ever  notice  it,  Marse  John,"  said  old  Wash 
the  other  night,  "dat  dere  is  allers  some  ole 
nigger  in  ev'y  town  down  Souf  dat  is  allers  de  bigges' 
Ike  in  it  an'  has  been  made  that  way  by  bein'  sp'iled 
by  white  fo'ks?"  I  had  noticed  it — the  most  striking 
example  being  the  old  man  himself;  but  I  only  smiled 
and  nodded  assent. 

"Uv  course  he  is  allers  er  Dimmicrat.  Dere  is 
jinnerally  allers  jes  erbout  one  Dimmicrat  nigger  in 
er  county  uv  'em,  an'  dis  is  the  one  de  white  fo'ks  make 
er  fool  uv  by  lettin'  him  do  eny  thing  he  pleezes, 
whilst  he  makes  er  fool  uv  dem  by  doin'  it.  Dat  nigger 
can't  do  no  harm — he's  er  Dimmicrat.  Don't  keer  how 
sassy  an'  lazy  an'  meddlin'  an'  no-'count  he  is,  he's  er 
Dimmicrat,  he's  the  one  lam'  that's  been  redeemed 
from  the  flock.  It's  funny,  but  they'd  ruther  have 
the  honor  of  gettin'  one  ole  nigger  to  be  er  Dimmicrat 
than  to  convert  er  dozen  white  men. " 

"An'  sech  er  nigger,"  went  on  the  old  man,  "is  sech 
jinerally  de  mos'  meddlesome  an'  se'f-important  an' 
conceited  cuss  that  ever  got  the  upper  han'  uv  de  res' 
uv  de  race.  Standin'  in  wid  de  white  fo'ks,  he  is  es 
sassy  as  er  jay-bird  on  Friday,  sayin'  an'  doin'  what  he 
pleezes.  An'  it's  'stoundin'  to  me  whut  they'll  stan' 
ofTen  him.  They'll  take  things  from  him  dat  dey'd 
kill  er  common  nigger  fur.  He  butts  into  all  de  white 
fo'ks  talk  jes  lak  he  wus  one  of  'em,  gits  big  wages  fur 

(248) 


OLD  PUNCH  249 

hangin'  'round  de  co'rthouse  or  some  sto'  doin'  nothin' 
but  sweepin'  up  onct  er  week  or  so,  bringin'  in  er  little 
coal  an'  water  when  he  ain't  playin'  backgammon, 
co'rtin'  some  ole  sassy  nigger  that's  allers  comin'  to  see 
him,  or  meddlin'  in  de  affairs  uv  his  betters.  An'  fur 
all  dat  the  white  fo'ks  dat  he's  tied  onto  stan'  it, 
thinkin'  he's  de  onlies'  nigger  in  de  wurl  till  he  dies 
uv  plum  laziness  an'  beer  an'  whiskey  swillin'  an'  den 
dey  all  bury  him  wid  great  pomp,  actin'  es  pall 
bearers  deyselves. 

"No,  no,  they  ain't  got  no  use  fur  er  real,  hard- 
wuckin'  nigger  dat  stays  at  home  an'  tend's  to  his 
own  bizness.  Whut  white  fo'ks  really  love  in  de 
nigger  tribe  is  er  big-mouth,  greasy-complected,  fat- 
bellied  ole  nigger  that  calls  'em  all  Marster  an'  Mistis, 
votes  wid  'em  an'  loafs  erroun'  tellin'  'em  nigger  yarns 
an'  ticklin'  dey  vanity,  an'  makin'  out  he's  so  humble 
he  couldn't  eat  ef  white  fo'ks  wus  lookin'  on,  but  in 
fact  bossin'  'em  in  everthing  frum  drawin'  his  wages 
to  namin'  de  babies ! 

"It's  funny  enyway  how  de  whole  wurl  will  let 
some  fo'ks  do  things  it'll  crucify  others  fur.  Look  whut 
it  let  Marse  Teddy  Roastfelt  do — de  high  actin',  knee- 
bangin'  gaits  dat  man  went !  An'  hit  wus  all  right ! 

"Dat  wus  Teddy! 

"But  you  jes  let  Marse  Billy  Taft  try  dat  gait  an 
see  whar  he  will  Ian'.  He's  got  too  much  sense  to  try 
it!  An*  white  fo'ks  is  the  same  way  'bout  dey 
wimmins.  I's  seed  meny  an'  meny  er  one  dat  led 
de  ban'-wagin  wid  enywhar  frum  two  to  er  dozen 
husban's  an'  nobody  seem  to  keer,  not  even  her 


250  "UNCLE  WASH" 

husban',  an'  long  es  she  lead  de  ban'-wagin  and 
stayed  in  high  society  it  wus  all  right.  But  let  some 
ole  maid  be  cocht  kissin'  her  cat  an'  dar  wus  er  scandal 
right  dar! 

"Sech  er  nigger  es  I've  tole  you  uv  wus  ole  Punch  dat 
lived  at  Macon,  G'orgy. 

"  I  went  down  dar  'bout  twenty  years  ergo  wid  Marse 
Henry  on  er  co'rtin'  trip.  Leastwise,  Marse  Henry 
went  to  co'rt  an'  es  I's  nurver  been  in  er  town  long 
widout  fallin'  from  grace  to  de  charms  uv  de  fair  sects, 
I  wus  soon  payin'  my  tenshuns  to  er  mighty  fine  lookin' 
widder  dat  I  thort  might  be  'swaded  to  go  back  wid 
me  to  Tennessee. 

"An'  I'd  er  done  it  right  erway  ef  it  hadn't  been  fur  dat 
nigger  de  whole  town  called  ole  Punch.  He  wus 
porter  in  de  bigges'  sto'  in  town  an'  owned  de  white 
fo'ks  in  it  same  as  ef  they  wus  his'n.  Him  an'  me  had 
it  red  hot  fur  de  widder  but  it  bein'  his  home  an'  him 
bein'  er  boss-nigger,  I  soon  seed  I  wus  carryin'  too  much 
weight  to  run  in  ole  Punch's  class  wid  eny  sho'  fur 
de  widder. 

"  Dey  gin  er  ball  fur  Marse  Henry  an'  me,  er  kind  u  v  er 
maskerade  ball,  and  Marse  Jimmy  Jones  that  run  de 
sto'  whar  Punch  wus  boss,  he  went  as  er  soljer,  carryin' 
er  big  dagger-knife  two  foot  long  made  out  uv  wood  and 
gilt  paper,  but  lookin'  mighty  lak  de  real  thing. 

"Now  ole  Punch  find  dat  knife  de  nex'  day  in  de 
sto'  an*  havin'  nothin'  to  do,  es  usual,  he  'mused  de 
town  de  nex'  day  skeerin'  de  life  outen  country  nig 
gers.  Of  course  de  white  fo'ks  all  put  him  up  to  it 
by  standin'  'round  an'  laffin'  at  him,  an'  Punch  wus  in 


OLD  PUNCH  251 

his  glory.  He'd  put  dat  big  wood  knife  in  his  belt, 
make  out  lak  he  wus  half  drunk  an'  walk  erround  till 
he  seed  some  skeery  lookin'  country  coon.  Then  all 
at  once  Punch  would  grab  him  in  de  collar,  draw  dat 
knife  dat  looked  lak  it  wus  er  yard  long  an'  all  steel  an* 
wid  awful  oaths  start  in  to  eat  dat  coon  alive  an'  carve 
him.  De  po'  nigger,  taken  unawares  an*  thinkin' 
Punch  wus  de  tumbles'  man  alive,  would  break  into 
er  dead  run  an'  nurver  look  back  till  he  wus  safe  in  de 
tall  timber. 

"Den  de  white  fo'ks  ud'  nearly  die  laffin'  an'  Punch 
would  start  erroun'  lookin'  fur  anurr  country  nigger. 

"All  long  he  done  dat  till  he  skeered  ever'  nigger 
out  uv  town. 

"Dat  night  him  an'  me  met  at  de  widder's  by 
accerdent  an'  Punch  he  wus  braggin'  how  he'd  skeered 
de  niggers  out  uv  town.  He  boasted  an'  bragged  so 
I  seed  I  had  no  sho'  fur  de  widder.  She  jes  thort  he 
wus  de  bigges'  nigger  dat  ever  come  down  de  pike. 

"To-morrer  bein'  Sat'day  he  wus  gwinter  have  mo' 
fun  an'  he  axed  de  widder  to  come  down  to  de  sto' 
whar  he  had  er  pair  uv  silk  stockin's  fur  her,  er  box  uv 
snuff,  two  bottles  uv  peppermint  oil  an'  er  New  Testa 
ment.  Thar  she  wus  to  sit  on  de  front  seat  an'  see 
Punch  run  common  niggers  out  uv  town. 

"I  went  away  feelin'  mighty  bad,  fur  I  knowed  I 
had  no  chance  'gainst  all  dem  presents  an'  pusson'l 
bravery. 

"  Es  I  went  into  town  de  nex'  day  I  seed  er  ha'f  crazy 
nigger  dey  called  Looney  dat  jes  had  sense  enuff  to 
fight  his  weight  in  wildcats.  Him  an'  me  got  pretty 


252  "UNCLE  WASH" 

thick  an'  after  I  gin  him  er  dram  an'  er  half  plug  uv 
Tennessee  tobacker,  he  wus  my  bosum  frien'  for 
life. 

"When  we  got  to  de  town  I  stopped  an'  tole 
Looney  I  wus  er  little  feared  to  go  eny  furder. 

'What's    up?"    sez    Looney,    'ain't    been    after 
chickens  las'  night,  is  you?' 

[  'No,'  sez  I,  'but  dar  is  er  turrible  bad  nigger  in 
town  dat's  run  amuck  an'  he's  liable  to  do  us  harm.1 

"I  seed  Looney's  little,  mean  eyes  flash  an'  he 
'lowed  he  wan't  feared  uv  him. 

'  'No,'  sez  I,  'neither  is  I,  but  I's  frum  er  peaceful 
state  I  is,  an'  I'd  hate  to  have  to  hurt  enybody  on 
dis  visit.' 

'Wai',  sez  Looney,  'I  ain't  frum  sech  er  peaceful 
state  an'  I's  gwine  inter  town!' 

"  'Wai,  ef  you  is,'  sez  I,  'I  think  you'd  better  take 
dis  pistol  to  defen'  yo'se'f,'  an'  I  give  him  er  ole  six- 
shooter  wid  er  barrel  er  foot  long  an'  I  had  loaded  it  wid 
big  loads  uv  powder  but  no  balls. 

'  'Now,'  sez  I,  'jes  take  dis,  it  shoots  six  times.  Dat 
nigger  is  named  Punch  an'  when  he  tackles  you  wid 
his  big  knife,  kill  him  befo'  he  reaches  yo'  heart  an' 
nobody'll  ever  pester  you  for  it. 

"Looney  sed  he'd  do  it,  an'  we  went  in. 

"Sho'  'nough  Punch  wus  dar  an'  had  already  run 
six  niggers  out  uv  town,  whilst  all  de  white  fo'ks, 
even  de  town  marshal,  wus  givin'  him  all  de  rope  he 
wanted,  an'  had  quit  dey  own  bizness  to  watch  de 
fun. 

"An'  dar  sat  de  widder  on  er  goods  box  dippin'  snuff 


OLD  PUNCH  253 

an'  laffin'  fit  to  kill  at  de  mighty  deeds  uv  Punch.  It 
wus  plain  to  see  dat  whut  she  laked  wus  pusson'l 
bravery  an'  wan't  Punch  er  mighty  man  uv  valor, 
bigger  dan  de  town  marshal,  who  seem  to  jes  let 
Punch  run  de  town. 

"  I  tried  to  interest  her,  but  she  wouldn't  look  at  me. 
Tennessee  niggers  had  no  charm  fur  her  es  long  as 
Punch  wus  de  whole  show. 

"  By  an'  by  heah  come  Looney  loafin'  erlong  an'  lookin' 
lak  er  skeered  dorg  at  er  public  fightin'.  Soon  es  Punch 
seed  him  he  gin  de  wink  all  aroun'  an'  it  wus  tipped 
off  all  down  de  line  an'  soon  everbody  stood  in  sto' 
doors  watchin'  to  see  Punch  skeer  Looney  into  er  fit. 
Punch  sidled  'long  by  Looney,  eyin'  him  sideways,  but 
Looney,  thinkin'  he  wus  er  sho'  nuff  bad  nigger,  never 
tuck  his  eyes  offen  Punch.  All  at  once  Punch  gin  er 
war  whoop,  drawed  dat  knife  dat  looked  lak  it  wus 
er  yard  long,  grabbed  Looney  in  de  collar  an'  sed 
fiercely: 

"  'Whut  de  devil  you  gwinter  do  heah,  you  chicken- 
stealin'  son  uv  darkness?  Run  fo'  I  kills  you!' 

"But  Looney  didn't  run,  an'  he  soon  seed  whut  he 
wus  gwinter  do,  fur  he  thort  sho'  Punch  meant  to  kill 
him  an'  quick  es  er  flash  he  drawed  de  ole  pistol  an' 
bang  it  went  off  right  in  Punch's  face. 

"  'He'p,  Marse  Jim,  fur  Gawd's  sake  I's  kilt!  I's 
kilt!'  yelled  Punch,  turnin'  er  handspring  back'ards  an' 
startin'  down  de  main  street  hisse'f,  wid  Looney 
right  after  him  an'  bofe  uv  'em  borin'  er  hole  in  de  air. 

''Bang!  went  de  ole  gun  again  an'  we  seed  Punch 
jump  twenty  feet.  Bang!  bang!  bang!  an'  down  de 


254  "UNCLE  WASH" 

street  he  run  yellin'  fur  Marse  Jim,  de  town  marshal, 
to  shoot  de  fool  nigger  quick ! 

'  'Kill  him,  Marse  Jim,  for  Gawd's  sake,  lie's  slot  me 
through  an'  through,  'wus  de  las'  we  heard  uv  Punch  es 
dey  went  over  de  hills,  Punch  er  little  in  de  lead. 

"Punch  didn't  come  back  for  two  weeks,  an*  befo' 
he  did  I  married  de  widder." 


HOW  MISS  CELESTE  SOLVED  THE  NEGRO 
PROBLEM 

IT  was  a  few  years  after  the  war.  She  came  from 
Boston,  and  her  name  was  Cousin  Celeste  Mc- 
Hiram  Winthrop.  She  wore  the  first  pair  of  nose 
glasses  and  the  first  pair  of  boots  I  had  ever  seen  on  a 
woman.  She  was  angular,  square  of  jaw  and  positive 
and  came  South  as  the  representative  of  a  society  bent 
on  finding  out  all  there  was  to  be  known  on  the  negro 
question.  Incidentally  she  was  a  member  of  The 
Boston  Anthropological  Society  and  was  after  original 
sources  for  future  papers.  Being  our  cousin,  she 
boarded  in  our  home  and  as  she  would  be  busy  she  was 
given  the  district  school  to  teach.  It  was  in  the 
Summer  vacation,  and  one  month  during  the  absence 
of  all  the  family  at  the  springs  but  me,  Cousin  Celeste 
took  charge  of  the  house-keeping. 
Hence  this  story: 

And  a  fine  woman  was  Cousin  Celeste  in  her  way. 
But  in  Tennessee  her  way  was  the  square  peg  in  the 
round  hole.  As  teacher  of  moral  philosophy  in  a  large 
school  in  Boston,  Secretary  of  the  Anthropological 
Society  and  Critic  for  the  Saturdays  Emerson  Club 
she  was  a  great  success. 

But  as  mistress  on  a  Southern  plantation  home! 

The  first  jar  came  from  Aunt  Dinah,  Uncle  Wash's 
redoubtable  spouse.  Now  Aunt  Dinah  had  cooked  for 
my  grandmother,  and  my  mother,  and  had  been  in  our 

(255) 


256  "UNCLE  WASH" 

family  just  sixty-five  years.  In  the  change  of  things 
by  the  war,  they  never  seemed  to  know  they  were  free, 
and,  save  the  regular  paying  of  wages  under  the  new 
order,  instead  of  the  gifts  and  care  of  the  old,  no  other 
change  was  made  in  their  simple  life. 

Cooks — they  are  the  only  monarchs  under  heaven 
that  I,  a  free  born  American,  will  bow  down  to.  For 
them  I  reserve  my  stateliest  bow,  my  most  servile 
homage.  The  place  is  theirs,  and  the  pantry  and  the 
fullness  thereof.  Their  word  is  my  law,  and  so  long 
as  they  cook  I  am  their  cringing  slave.  For  was  it  not 
the  great  Scotch  dyspeptic,  Thomas  Carlyle,  who  once 
remarked  that  all  he  was  certain  of  in  this  life  was  that 
he  had  a  stomach? 

"Your  majesty,  and  how  goes  it  with  you  this  morn 
ing?"  I  always  ask  as  I  sneak  into  my  breakfast, 
thankful  that  it  is  there.  If  she  deigns  me  a  smile 
and  a  gracious  reply  I  am  her  servant.  And  if  with 
it  the  waffles  are  browned  to  their  right  color,  the  chops 
are  just  rare  enough,  and  the  eggs  boiled  just  three 
minutes;  aye,  then  I  am  her  slave. 

A  man  in  his  forgetfulness,  may  some  morning  fail 
to  salute  the  wife  of  his  bosom;  in  his  arrogance  and 
false  pride  he  may  even  fail  to  kiss  his  mother-in-law, 
but  woe  unto  him  if  he  fail  to  remember  his  cook  and 
neglect  those  little  courtesies! 

And  so  Cousin  Celeste  had  been  with  me  a  month, 
perhaps  when  Aunt  Dinah  came  in  one  morning 
with: 

"Look  aheah,  chile;  I  specs  I's  gwinter  hafter  leave 
you. " 


THE  NEGRO  PROBLEM  SOLVED         257 

"Now,  Aunt  Dinah,  that's  a  good  joke.  What  have 
we  done  to  you  now?  " 

"Oh,  nuffin',  chile — nuffin'.  I  likes  you  all  jeses  much 
es  I  ever  did,  'specially  dat  are  new  'oman  frum  Bost- 
ing.  She  is  sho'  er  daisy,  or,  I  shu'd  have  sed,  er  bunch 
uv  mighty  sweet  ole  dried-up  sage  blossoms,  an*  me  an' 
her  cu'd  git  erlong  furever.  No,  I  hates  pow'ful  ter 
leave  you  all,  chile,  arter  all  dese  years,  an'  I  done  nus 
you  an'  yo'  blessed  mother  befo'  you,  but  I  jes  heurn 
now  frum  my  darter  down  in  Giles  County,  an'  de  little 
gran 'chile  dat  was  so  peurt  is  kinder  got  de  limber  legs, 
an'  I  specs  I  hafter  go  down  dar  an'  see  ter  it." 

I  looked  at  Aunt  Dinah.  I  knew  that  peculiarity 
of  negroes,  that,  however  just  their  cause  for  leaving 
may  be,  they  never  tell  you  the  real  one  when  they  wish 
to  go.  Besides,  her  extravagant  praise  of  Cousin 
Celeste  told  me  at  once  what  was  the  matter. 

"Now,  Aunt  Dinah,  you  know  that  grandchild  is 
all  right.  The  limber  legs  never  was  known  to  kill 
children.  Tell  me  what  is  the  matter?" 

"Lor'  bless  me,  chile,  dey  ain't  nuffin  de  matter  wid 
me.  It  mighty  nigh  breaks  my  heart  to  leave  you, 
chile!" 

"Aunt  Dinah,"  I  said,  looking  her  very  closely  in 
the  eyes,  "what  has  Cousin  Celeste  been  doing  to 
you?" 

"G'wifTum  heah,  chile!  Huccum  you  guess  dat  so 
quick?  I  believe  white  folks  kin  jes  see  through  er 
nigger  soon  es  dey  look  at  'em." 

She  shook  all  over  with  cunning  laughter.  Then, 
seriously: 

17 


258  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"Chile,  I  bin  wid  you  all  'long  'fo'  you  was  bohn, 
ain't  I?"  I  nodded. 

"Wai,  jes'  tell  me,  did  you  er  eny  body  else  ever 
know  me  ter  take  de  rappin'  uv  yo'  finger?" 

"Aunt  Dinah,"  I  said,  impressively,  and  with  my 
most  becoming  bow,  "  I  would  trust  you  with  the  key 
to  the  pantry  of  paradise.  I'd  turn  the  very  store 
room  of  heaven  over  to  you,  knowing  full  well  that, 
while  you  managed  it,  not  a  celestial  sandwich,  not  a 
cherub  doughnut  would  be  missing." 

"Thang  Gawd  fur  dat!  I  knowed  you  would,  chile. 
Glory  halleluja  fur  dat!  Hit's  jes  laik'  you,  bohn  er 
gem'man  an'  can't  he'p  yo'se'f.  And  so  wud  de  angel 
Gabriel,  yessah,  de  angel  Gabriel,  dat  bosses  de  gates 
uv  heaben — he'd  say  de  same — he'd  trust  me,  too! 
An'  arter  he'd  knowed  old  Dinah  an'  e't  er  few  uv  my 
batter  cakes  an'  waffles  wid  honey,  he'd  cum'  by  de 
kitchen  uv  heaben  ever'  mornin'  an'  say:  'Heah, 
Dinah,  bless  yo'  ole  soul,  jes'  take  de  pantry  keys  an 
git  out  wbutever  you  wants,  an'  don't  be  scrup'l'us  'bout 
it — dey's  'nuff  fer  us  all.  Don't  you  give  us  no  baked 
beans  an'  cold,  clammy  bread  an'  codfisb  balls.  Dat's 
de  bill  uv  fare  dey  bave  in  Bosting,  an' — an  down  dar,' 
sez  he,  er  pintin'  wid  his  finger  down  below,  'but  give 
us  Tennessee  rare  roast  beef,  an'  Southdown  lambs  fed 
on  blue  grass  in  de  apple  orcb'd,  an'  bot  cobn  pones,  an' 
beat  biskit,  an'  fried  chicken  wid  fritter  cakes,  an'  flap 
jacks  wid  Louisiana  syrup,  an'  North  Carolina  chicken 
pie!  Feed  de  angels,  Dinah,  fur  de  craps  nurver  fails 
in  dis  land  uv  light. ' 

"Dat's  whut  Gabriel  hisse'f'd  say." 


THE  NEGRO  PROBLEM  SOLVED         259 

I  nodded  approvingly. 

"Wai,  now,  chile,  ef  de  angel  Gabriel  hisse'f'd  say 
dat'  de  verry  boss  man  uv  heaben  hisse'f" — here  she 
paused,  drew  herself  up  two  inches  and  shook  from  side 
to  side  for  emphasis — "does  you  reckin  I'se  gwinter 
stan'  dat  ar  'oman  nosin'  erroun'  dat  pantry,  an' 
allers  axin'  me  whut  I  git  out  dis  fur,  an'  whut  I  git 
out  dat  fur?  Nosin'  an'  nosin'  erroun',  an'  eyein' 
whut  I  puts  in  my  batter  cakes,  an'  er  measurin'  out 
de  flour — listen,  chile,  whut  I's  tellin'  you,  but  fo' 
Gawd  hits  true  es  I  cross  my  heart ! — er  m-e-a-s-u-r-i-n ' 
out  de  flour  lak'  de  wan't  ernudder  wheat  crop  in  de 
wurl',  an'  er  w-a-i-g-h-i-n '  de  rice,  an'  allers  a  d-o-l-i-n' 
an'  er  d-o-l-i-n'  out  de  lard,  lak  hit  wus  de  alabaster 
box  uv  de  ile  uv  de  las'  bucksheer  on  de  top  side  uv 
yearth !  Tell  me,  chile,  long  as  I  bin  wid  you  all,  did 
you  urver  know  me  ter  take  de  rappin'  uv  yo'  finger? 
An*  now,  in  my  ole  age,  to  have  dat  ar  'oman  heah  an' 
'flectin'  on  my  keracter  lak'  dat,  castin'  spurgeons 
on  my  robe  dat  has  bin  spotless  an'  puore  all  dese 
years —  Here  Aunt  Dinah  broke  down,  sat  in  the 
corner  of  a  chair  and  wiped  away  tears  with  her  cook 
apron. 

I  shook  my  head  sympathetically.  "That's  too  bad, 
Aunt  Dinah,  too  bad.  But  I  don't  think  she  meant  it 
that  way." 

"Now  ole  mistis,  she'd  say  ter  me, 

"'Heah's  de  keys,  Dinah ;  git  breakfus',  an'  heah's 
de  keys,  Dinah;  git  dinner,'  an'  heah's  de  keys, 
Dinah;  git  supper;  an'  I'd  git  'em,  an'  dat'dbeall,  an' 
nobody  didn't  think  I  wus  gwinter  steal  eny  thing!' 


260  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"But  dat  ain't  de  wust  uv  it,  Eber  since  she  "bin 
heah  she  bin  er-callin'  me  Mrs.  Grundy — listen  chile, 
wbut  I's  tellin'  you;  fo'  Gawd,  bit's  true!  — er-callin' 
me  Mrs.  Grundy!  At  fust  I  thort  she  wus  doin  '  hit 
fur  fun,  an'  I'd  laf  an'  say:  'Mistis,  white  fo'ks  don't 
call  culler' d  fo'ks  by  dey  las'  name  in  dis  country — 
'tain't  'spec'ful.'  But  you  think  she  didn't  jes'  keep 
on  a — Mrs.  Grundy  an'  a — Mrs.  Grundyin'  me,  twell 
one  evenin'  when  she  had  her  supper  by  hitse'f,  an' 
I  fotch  in  her  tea,  an'  she  say:  'Mrs.  Grundy, 
won't  you  sot  down  an'  have  er  cup  uv  tea  wid  me?'  Listen 
chile,  whut  I's  tellin  you;  'fo'  Gawd,  its  true!  I 
lak'ter  fell  down  on  dat  flo'.  I  cum'  mighty  nigh, 
ra't  den  an'  dar,  tellin'  dat  'oman  whut  I  thort  uv  her. 
How  she  'spect  me  ter  have  eny  'spec'  fur  her  when 
she  ain't  got  no  'spec'  fur  me?  Ef  it  hadn't  bin  fur 
leabin'  you,  chile,  heah  by  yo'se'f — leavin'  you  to  eat 
de  col',  clammy,  an'  paralyzed  stuff  she'd  make  fur  you, 
er  cross  betwixt  cold  bread,  baked  beans  an'  de  spawn 
uv  codfish,  an'  all  beat  up  wid  dis  heah  Emersun  Club 
she's  allers  tellin'  'bout  (dough  fur  my  part  I'd  nurver 
give  my  red-ellum  biskit-pin  fur  allde  Emersun  clubs)  — 
I'd  jes '  er-quit  ra't  dar !  Eny  white  'oman  dat'd  do  dat 
can't  'spec'  no  culler'd  'oman  ter  stay  wid  her,  dat's  all !" 

"That  was  very  thoughtless,  Aunt  Dinah,  but  I  am 
sure  she  didn't  mean  anything  by  it.  She  has  been 
raised  so  differently  from  us,"  I  said 

"Wai,  den,  I's  sorry  fur  her  raisin,  den,  dat's 
all!  An'  I  ain't  'spons'bul  fur  it,  nuther!  Don't  de 
good  Book  hitse'f  say:  'When  sinners  entice  thee,  con 
sent  thou  not;  an'  'void  the  'pearance  uv  evil.' 


THE  NEGRO  PROBLEM  SOLVED         261 

It  was  some  time  before  Aunt  Dinah  spoke  again,  so 
great  was  her  indignation.  Then  she  blazed  out: 

"Listen,  chile;  now  lis'en  whut  I's  gwine  tell  you. 
Jes'  lis'en  yo'se'f,  an'  tell  me  ef  you'd  stan'  hit.  Whut 
you  reckin  she's  doin  all  de  time  when  me  an'  you  ain't 
lookin'  at  'er?  Writin'  me  an'  my  ole  man  down 
in  er  book — lise'n,  chile;  'fo'  Gawd,  it's  true! — puttin' 
us  down  in  black  an'  white  fur  ter  take  us  back  up  to 
Bosting  an'  scannerlize  our  repertashun  wid,  an'  er- 
makin'  us  say  demos'  outlandish  things,  an'  er-talkin' 
lak'  we  nurver  talked  in  all  our  life.  Usin'  us  ter  solve 
sum'  problem,  she  call  it,  an'  er-writin'  us  down  in 
black  an'  white  ter  be  de  lafifin'  stock  uv  de  res'  uv  de 
wurl'.  Chile,  lis'en  ter  me  your  own  se'f  now,  wid 
yo  own  years,  an'  tell  me  ef  you'd  stan'  hit?" 

She  was  so  indignant  she  could  proceed  no  further. 

"That's  bad — very  bad,  Aunt  Dinah.  I'll  see  that 
that  is  stopped." 

This  pleased  her  immensely,  and  she  broke  out  into 
a  laugh  as  she  said:  "Chile,  de  cu'us  questions  she  kin 
ax — he,  he,  he! — 'nuff  ter  mek'  er  owl  laff  at  his  gran- 
daddy's  fun'ral.  She'll  set  erroun'  so  quiet  lak', 
you  don't  think  she's  loaded  an'  not  gwine  go  off  so 
onexpectedly.  She'll  jes'  be  settin'  dar,  so  quiet 
lak',  den  all  at  onct,  bang!  Off  she  goes,  an'  fires 
sum  paralizin'  quest'un  ra't  inter  yo'  fifth  rib.  I 
tell  you,  chile,  whenever  dis  writin'  fever  gits  holt  uv 
erole  maid,  dey  ain't  no  doctor  livin  'kin  tell  whar 
de  dognosis  uv  her  condishun  gwine  end — dey  aint! 
She's  liabul  ter  do  mos'  eny  thing — she  sho'  is!" 

Aunt  Dinah  laughed  again.     "T'other  day  she  wus 


262  "UNCLE  WASH" 

joggin'  erlong,  knittin',  'tirely  reconciled  an'  gwine 
'long  easy  an'  smooth  lak',  not  seein'  er  thing  ter  shy 
at,  wid  her  pencil  an'  paper  handy,  dough,  an'  all 
dat,  when  all  at  onct  she  shied  clear  outen  de  road  wid: 

"  Mrs.  Grundy,  lemme  ax  you  er  question :  'Huccum 
puddle  ducks  allers  so  quiet  'twell  dey  happen  ter  git 
togedder,  den  dey  jabber  an'  go  on  so?' 

"'Mistis,'  sez  I.  'I  don't  know,  but  hit's  zactly  de 
same  way  wid  wimmen  fo'ks.' 

'  'Ah,  dat  am  a  cu'us  'zemblance,'  she  sez,  'Ah,  so 
hit  am;  an'  I'll  make  it  de  princerpullest  p'int  in  my 
chapter  on  "De  Kinship  in  Anermal  Life."  An'  she 
sot  hit  right  down  den  an '  dar  under  de  head  uv  puddle 
ducks  an'  wimmen  fo'ks. 

"Den  she  allers  axin'  me  sum  question  which  she 
thinks  is  calkerlated  ter  solve  dat  nigger  problem  she's 
allers  talkin'  'bout.  She  don't  know  I  am  onto  it, 
but  I  is.  Sez  she: 

"'Mrs.  Grundy,  does  you  feel  eny  difT'runt  now  sence 
you  free  den  you  useter  feel  es  er  slave? ' 

"  '  Bout  de  same,  thank  you,  mistis,'  sez  I ;  'bout  de 
same.  But  I  notice  sence  I's  free  I's  got  ter  be 
mighty  keerful  how  I  eats  col'  cabbage  fur  supper — hit 
gives  me  er  pow'ful  miz'ry  if  I  ain't  'tickler,  fur  I  ain't 
so  young  es  I  useter  be. 

"She  laf  an'  say:  'Oh,  you  don't  understan'  me. 
I  wus  fererrin'  to  dat  interlecshul  an'  soulful  feelin'. 
Does  de  free  life  give  you  eny  stronger  longin'  fur 
immortality,  an'  desire  to  go  upward  an'  onward; 
eny  secret  flutterin'  uv  de  soul  erroun'  de  innermos' 
chambers  uv  de  heart,  eny — ' 


THE  NEGRO  PROLEM  SOLVED  263 

1  'Not  'les  I  eats  dem  col'  cabbages  I  wus  tellin' 
you  'bout,  mistis,'  sez  I.  'Den  I  seems  to  have  all 
dem  symtems  at  onct,  'speshly  de  flutterin/ 

Here  Aunt  Dinah  laughed  until  I  thought  she  would 
never  begin  again." 

"But  she  axed  de  ole  man  de  funnies'  question  de 
nex'  day.  He  cum  in  frum  de  dairy  wid  de  milk,  an' 
she  wus  out  dar  er-joggin'  erlong  down  de  road  jes' 
es  natchu'l  es  life,  an'  not  er-shyin'  at  er  thing,  es  I 
wus  saying,  when  all  at  onct  dat  writin'  fever  tuk  'er 
an'  she  grabbed  her  pencil,  shied  cl'ar  outen  de  road, 
and  sed: 

'Mister  Washington,  I's  allers  wanted  to  ax  sum- 
body  er  question,  but  I's  nurver  hed  de  chance. 
Would  you  objec'  to  my  axin'  you?' 

"De  ole  man  he  pull  off  his  hat  an'  he  bow  ve'y  low, 
an'  he  say:  'Sart'n'y  not,  mistis;  sart'n'y  not.  But 
ef  you'll  let  de  ole  man  be  so  bold,  I  hopes  you  won't 
put  no  mo'  filler-gree  work  to  my  name.  'Deed  I  does. 
I  can't  stan'  hit,  mistis;  hit  makes  me  feel  lak  I  done 
stole  sumpin'.' 

''  Tillergree  work  to  yo'  name!'  and  she  laf.  'Why, 
whut  er  funny  ole  culler'd  gemmen  you  is !  You'll  mek ' 
erfmecheracter  fur  er  paper  I'mwrittin'  on  "De  Nigger 
Question  in  de  Souf. " 

"  Dat  lak '  ter  skeered  de  ole  man  ter  deaf.  He  drapt 
his  milk-pa  1  an '  his  eyes  bulged  out,  an '  he  sez :  'Mistis, 
fur  Gawd's  sake  don't  do  dat !  Whut  is  I  urver  done  ter 
you  dat  mek'  you  wanter  treat  me  dat  'er'  way?' 

"  'Why  nuffin','  sez  she,  'I  thort  you'd  be  proud  uv 
it,' 


264  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"  'Fur  goodness  sake,  mistis,  you'll  break  my  heart. 
So  menny  fo'ks  hes  come  down  here  an'  writ  us  up, 
er-makin'  us  talk  lak  heathen,  an'  er-chasin'  us  wid 
kodacs,  an'  er  makin'  us  do  er  whol  lot  er  things  we 
nurver  dreamed  uv,  dat  now  when  I  sees  er  'oman 
er  cummin'  down  de  road  with  er  pencil  in  her  han'  an' 
one  uv  dese  heah  fur-away,  gwinter-write-you-up- 
enyway  kinder  looks  in  her  eyes,  Fs  ready  ter  dim' 
er  barb-wire  fence  an'  go  through  er  bull  lot,  wid  de 
bull  arter  me,  to  gin  her  all  de  pike  she  wants.  Now, 
I's  gittin'  ole  an'  feeble,  mistis,  an'  I  can't  go  through 
bull  lots  lak  I  useter,  so  take  pity  on  de  ole  man  an* 
don't  do  dat !' 

"  De  'oman  she  look  lak  she  didn't  know  'zactly  whut 
ter  say,  but  she  sez: 

"  'An'  why  don't  you  want  me  to  call  you  Mister 
Washington?' 

"  'Lor',  mistis/  sez  de  ole  man,  'dat's  wussern  de 
writin'  up  bizness,  an'  hit  cum  erbout  dis  way:  Arter 
de  wah,  I  hearn  so  much  'bout  de  high  'spec'  dey  hilt 
de  nigger  in  up  in  Hosting,  an'  'bout  dat  literary 
atmosphere  dat  wus  so  congeenual  ter  fo'ks  dat  had 
bin  raised  in  it,  lak  me,  I  'cided  ter  go  up  dar  an'  begin 
life  all  over  'mong  dem  fo'ks.  I'd  saved  er  thousan' 
dollars  ole  marster'd  gin  me,  an'  when  I  got  up  dar  I 
wus  de  bigges'  man  dar.  Ever'whar'  I  go  it  wus 
Mister  Washington.  Den  dey  got  to  callin'  me  Jedge 
Washington,  an'  den  Kunnel  Washington,  an'  den  I 
hope  I  may  die  ef  I  didn't  soon  git  ter  be  Gineral 
Washington,  'twell  I  begin  ter  think  myse'f  I  wus  de 
father  uv  our  kuntry  done  up  in  ebony.  Cou'se  dey  ax 


THE  NEGRO  PROLEM  SOLVED          265 

me  ter  eat  wid  'em.  Fust  I  cu'dn't  half  eat,  settin'  at 
de  table  wid  white  fo'ks,  an*  I  lakter  starve  ter  def. 
But  dey  kep  on  tellin'  me  we  wus  all  equal  now,  an* 
one  jes'  es  good  es  t'other  an'  so  I  mistered  an'  j edged 
'em  an'  Jineraled  'em  back  an'  lit  in.  Den  dey  want 
me  to  lectur',  an'  lectur,  I  mus'.  Wai,  I  didn't 
wanter  do  hit,  but  I  had  ter  do  hit,  so  I  went 
dar  an'  tole  'em  de  truf — dat  ole  master  wus  de  bes' 
frien'  I  ever  had;  dat  slavery  wus  de  greates'  blessin' 
dat  ever  happen  fur  de  nigger,  fetchin'  'im  out  uv 
darkness  inter  light;  dat  fur  as  I  cou'd  see  hit  wus  all 
er  big  fambly  wid  us,  but  now,  sence  by  de  will  uv  Gawd 
hit  hed  all  bin  changed  hit  wus  all  right,  'cept  we  wus 
po'  an'  ign'ant,  an'  didn't  kno'  whut  ter  do,  an* 
couldn't  cope  wid  white  fo'ks;  dat  whut  we  wanted 
wus  ejucashun  an'  er  chance  to  make  er  livin'  an'  notde 
ballot,  'ca'se  wid  it  we'd  make  enemies  'mong  de  fo'ks  we 
lived  wid,  an'  git  lynched  an'  shot  an'  have  race  wars 
whar  de  las'  condishun  uv  us'd  be  worse  dan  de  fust. 
I  tole  dem  de  truf,  an'  hit  hes  cum  to  pass  jes'  es  I  sed 
it  would. ' 

"  'Wai,  my  money  gin  out  arter  er  while,  an'  den  I 
thort  I'd  go  to  work.  But,  whilst  I  wus  still  Mister 
Washington,  I  couldn't  git  nuffin  ter  do.  I'd  tuk  keer 
uv  hosses  all  my  life,  so  I  thort  I'd  try  de  big  stables, 
but  de  man  he  sez:  Ts  sorry,  Mister  Washington, 
but  ef  I'd  hire  you  heah,  ever'  white  man  I's  got'd 
quit.' 

"  'Den  I  seed  'em  buildin'  er  brick  house.  Now,  I  wus 
er  good  mason,  'cause  ole  marster  he'd  to'rt  us  all  er 
trade.  I  wus  Mister  Washington  ergin,  but  it  wus  de 


266  "UNCLE  WASH" 

same.      De  boss  say  ever  man  dar'd  lay  down  his 
trowel  ef  I  went  to  work/ 

"  'Den  I  'cided  dat  literary  air  wus  gittin'  too  cold 
fur  me,  an'  I'd  better  git  back  home,  ef  I  had  to  beg 
my  way  erfoot.  So  I  started  out,  but  I  hadn't  gone 
fur  down  de  street  befo'  I  seed  er  quiet-lookin',  go-easy 
sort  uver  man,  wid  er  soft  felt  hat  on,  an'  er  kindly 
smile,  lookin'  lak  he  wan't  in  no  'tickler  hurry  an'  wan't 
tryin'  ter  git  rich  nor  solve  no  problem,  an'  I  stopped 
an'  pulled  off  my  hat  an'  sez:  '  Good-mornin',  mars- 
ter.' 

'He  looked  at  me  wid  er  funny  sort  uver  smile  an' 
sez: 

" '  You  damned  die  fool,  whut  you  doiri  up  beab . ' 
'  'Lor',  marster"  sez  I,  "lemme  hug  you!    You  do 
talk  so  nachu'l!' 

'Den  I  tole  him  all,  how  I'd  cum  frum  Tennessee, 
an'  had  waited  on  Marse  Felix  Grundy,  an'  bin  raised 
wid  de  bes'  in  de  Ian',  an'  wus  now  beggin'  my  way 
back  'ca'se  I  couldn't  get  no  work  ter  do.  Wai,  sah, 
he  cussed  me  out  ergin  fur  being  sech  er  fool,  an'  I 
hugged  'im  ergin— I  couldn't  he'p  it,  hit  come  so 
nachu'l — an'  he  tuk  me  an'  gin  me  er  drink,  an'  sed 
he'd  cum  frum  Tennessee  hisse'f,  an'  he  tuk  me  to  er 
resterrant  an'  gin  me  er  square  meal,  an'  den  he  gin 
me  money  ernuff  ter  git  home  on,  an'  sed:  '  Take  dis 
an'  go — go  to  de  Ian  whar  de  sun  shines  an'  de  birds 
sing;  whar  de  sperrit  uv  de  race  boss,  lak  dey  whiskey, 
gits  better  es  it  gits  older;  whar  dey  ain't  no  art,  no  liter- 
cbure  an  no  lies;  whar  dey  kno'  er  nigger  ain't  er  white 
man  an  nurver  can  be.  Dey  am  good  fo'ks  up  beab/ 


THE  NEGRO  PROBLEM  SOLVED          267 

se%  "be,  'an  maybe  dey  don't  know  it,  but  deyluvede 
nigger  in  theory  an'  crucifies  'im  in  fact.' 

"  'So  I  lit,  mistis,  an'  ain't  nurver  bin  ambish'us 
fur  no  handle  to  my  name  sence.'  ' 

Here  Aunt  Dinah  was  quiet  for  awhile,  and  then 
she  said:  "Chile,  I  hates  ter  leave  you,  but  you  see 
yo'se'f  I's  bleeged  ter  go.  But  she  tuk  all  dat  down, 
an'  when  she  finishes  it,  er-mixin'  me  an'  de  ole  man 
up  wid  puddle  ducks  an'  nigger  problems  an'  all  dat, 
don't  you  kno'  we  can't  stan'  it?" 

That  night  I  explained  the  situation  to  Cousin 
Celeste. 

"Now  Cousin  Celeste,"  I  said,  "just  give  her  the 
keys  and  let  her  alone. " 

"But  she'll  break  you,"  said  Cousin  Celeste,  "She's 
the  most  wasteful  and  extravagant  thing. " 

"Yes,"  I  replied,  "but  she  has  been  with  us  sixty- 
five  years,  and  she  can  make  just  that  many  kinds  of 
batter  cakes,  and  pies  innumerable,  and  her  cakes  are 
immaculate,  and  her  broils  and  roasts  are  fit  for  a 
king's  table.  Only  let  us  be  fed  right,  Cousin  Celeste, 
and  we  can  stand  all  the  ills  of  life. " 

It  was  sometime  before  Cousin  Celeste  spoke.  Then 
she  said,  dryly:  "I  think  I  have  already  solved  the 
negro  problem  in  the  South. " 

"How  so?"  I  asked. 

"Once  you  owned  the  negroes — now  they  own  you." 
And  she  snapped  of?  to  her  room  to  finish  a  thesis  for 
the  Emerson  Club, 


HOW  JENNY  McGREW  CAME  TO  HER  OWN 

THE  field  which  the  old  man  had  been  plowing 
did  not  look  unlike  an  hundred  others  of 
Middle  Tennessee.  There  ran  the  shallow  creek 
beyond  it,  following  the  lime  blufT  of  the  hills,  which, 
in  the  distance,  died  away  in  a  scroll  of  purple  against 
the  sky  line.  Nearer,  they  were  emerald  with  the 
deep  green  of  the  apple  orchard,  or  shimmered,  showing 
flakes  of  that  restful  straw-green  which  the  June  wind 
always  makes  when  it  moves  through  heads  of  ripening 
wheat. 

By  the  clock  it  was  nearly  half  to  noon;  but  already 
he  rested, — he  and  the  lazy,  gray,  fat  mule  hitched  to 
a  small  old  fashioned  bull-tongue  plough.  There 
could  be  no  mistake  in  their  attitude:  the  old  darkey 
sitting  on  the  soft  grass,  propped  up  between  the 
plow-handles  and  fanning  with  a  battered  and  drooped- 
brimmed  wool  hat,  the  old  mule  browsing  amid  the 
thick  fringe  of  bordering  blue  grass — it  meant  rest, 
prolonged  and  complete  rest. 

"I  am  afraid  you  are  a  quitter,  Uncle  Wash,"  I 
smiled  as  I  came  up.  There  was  a  deprecatory  wave 
of  his  hand : 

"Dat  bumblebee  cohn  sho'  makes  me  tired,  Marse 
John.  No  suh,  I  ain't  never  gwinter  plant  a'nurr' 
crap  uv  cohn  on  no  mo'  battle  fiel's.  I  knowed  befo' 
I  planted  it  dat  Hood  an'  dem  Yankees  done  fit  all 
over  dis  ole  fiel'  an'  I  was  pow'ful  anx's  to  rent  dis 

(268) 


JENNY  McGREW  CAME  TO  HER  OWN      269 

piece  frum  ole  Miss  fur  dat  reezun.  I  tho'rt  too  much 
blood  had  bin  spilt  dar  fur  it  ever  to  be  droughty. 
I  tol'  her  de  bre'f  done  went  outen  too  menny  men  dar 
fur  de  Ian*  ever  to  gro'  any-thing  but  moanin'  weeds 
an*  thistles,  an'  I  cud  keep  dem  down.  An'  den  I'd 
heurd  dat  de  grass  wouldn't  gro'  on  no  spot  whar  er 
daid  man  had  laid,  an'  thinks  I  to  myse'f  '*/  dat's  so 
dar  won't  no  grass  dar  at  all  on  dis  fielj  fur  dar  is  bin 
er  daid  man  layin'  on  ever  foot  uv  hit,  fur  I  seed  'em 
dar  myse'f  de  day  after  de  battle.' 

"Wai,  bless  yo'  soul,  hit  looks  lak  dat  de  grass  is  all 
dat's  gwinter  gro'  heah, — it  sho'  do! 

"  I  c'lar  to  goodness,  I  don't  see  whut  in  de  worl'  ole 
Miss  ever  let  dem  men  fight  on  her  place  fur.  Dey  jis' 
nachully  played  ruinashun  wid  hit. 

"I  done  all  I  cu'd  to  make  dat  crap  uv  cohn  I 
know'd,  to  begin  wid,  dat  no  cohn  crap  'ud  gro'  if  de 
cobs  uv  de  seed-cohn  wa'nt  buried  an'  kept  moist  all 
summer.  So  I  buried  de  cobs  uv  de  seed-cohn  myse'f 
an'  kept  de  groun'  moist  ever  day.  I  done  all  I  cu'd 
to  make  dis  crap — all  but  plow  an'  hoe  it,  an'  hit 
ortenter  needed  dat,  bein'  as  how  it's  been  kivered 
wid  de  daid. 

"  Taint  no  good !  Hit's  dat  dried  blood  an*  all  dem 
singein'  red  hot  ghostes  meanderin'  'roun'  here  ever* 
night  an'  scorchin'  up  things. 

"Wai,  lemme  see.  I  wus  jis  historin'  'bout  dis  ole 
fiel' — hit's  so  full  uv  history.  Befo'  de  wah  dis  bottom 
wus  er  level  meader,  an'  de  white  fo'ks  had  all  day 
fairs  heah.  An'  sech  times!  Gawd,  hoss  racin'  an' 
drinkin'  home  made  licker  outen  barrels  wid  tin  dippers 


270  "UNCLE  WASH" 

all  day  an'  dancin'  ergwine  all  night !  You  sed  sumpin 
erbout  er  quitter — dat  reminds  me  uv  de  story  I  bin 
historin'  'bout: 

"Long  in  de  50'$  de  craps  wus  pow'ful  an'  we  had 
er  big  fair  dat  fawl  an'  sum  fine  mile  racin'  an'  plenty 
uv  quartah  racin'. 

"  'Bout  de  thurd  day  uv  de  fair,  arter  de  hosses  bin 
matched  so  often  dat  ever'  body  know'd  whut  deycu'd 
do,  hit  'gun  to  drag  er  little.  Hit  spiled  de  fun,  fur  dar 
wa'nt  no  chances  lef .  Hoss  racin'  is  lak  er  love-fair', 
if  hit  gits  too  one-sided  de  fun  is  gone.  Es  long  es  er 
gal  is  got  you  guessin*  she's  got  yo'  gwine.  Es  fur  de 
fellah,  if  he  shows  his  han'  too  soon,  he's  gwine  do  all 
de  beggin'  an'  most  uv  de  lyin'.  An'  dat's  whut's  de 
matter  wid  matrimony  now;  hit  ain't  bekase  de  fo'ks 
is  tied  up  dat  makes  hit  so  mutton-noternus;  hit's 
bekase  de  wife  ain't  got  anurr'  string  to  her  bow  to  let 
her  man  kno'  dat  dis  kin'  uv  injustice  ain't  sealed  fur 
eternity. 

"We  men  fo'ks  is  tumble!  We  cuts  off  all  er 
woman's  chances  by  marryin'  her  to  wash-tubs  an* 
babies,  an'  den  we  cuts  er  bee-line  to  new  pastures, 
whilst  she  takes  hern  out  in  mo'  chilluns,  cookin', 
mumps,  measles  an'  mem'ries." 

He  laughed  quietly  and  chuckled  as  he  leaned  back 
against  the  plow  handles  and  looked  across  the  distant 
hills. 

"But  I's  giwne  to  tell  you  how  dat  game  wus 
sp'iled  onct.  Marse  Richard  he  married  my  young 
mistis,  Miss  Jinny  McGrew,  de  same  dat  owns  all  dis 
Ian'— an'  in  marryin'  her  he  got  all  her  plantashuns, 


JENNY  McGREW  CAME  TO  HER  OWN      271 

niggers,  bridle-presents,  an'  all  uv  ole  marster's  race- 
bosses  dat  he'd  lef  her — his  houn'-dorgs  an'  everthing. 
Got  'em  all, — even  her  belle-days  an'  happy  gal-days, 
jis  fur  er  three-dollar  license  an'  six  chilluns  in  ten 
years. 

"O  dey  wus  'bout  es  happy  es  uther  fo'ks,  but  I 
seed  de  roses  fade  in  her  cheek  an'  whilst  Marse 
Richard  wus  mighty  proud  uv  her  an'  de  chilluns,  he 
kept  all  de  funds  in  his  own  han's,  dolin'  it  out  to  her 
jis  lak  he'd  allus  owned  it,  an'  had  give  her  odds  in  de 
trade. 

"Miss  Jinny,  havin'  all  dem  fine  chillun  to  raise, 
jis  had  to  stop  gwine  out — she  had  no  pretty  gowns  lak 
she  uster  have,  an'  no  funds  to  buy  'em.  But  Marse 
Richard,  wal,  he  sho'  wus  mighty  fond  uv  her  an' 
mighty  proud  uv  de  chilluns  an'  de  way  he  rushed  de 
gals  an'  de  gamblin'  table  wus  er  sight. 

"  He  got  so  he  didn't  cum  home  only  ever  Sat'day 
night,  but  he  wus  sho'  fond  uv  his  wife  an'  chillun. 

"Now  her  daddy,  my  ole  marster,  had  er  race  mare 
by  Timoleon  named  Jinny  McGrew,  fur  his  darter,  dat 
had  won  in  her  day  ever'  big  purse  frum  New  Orleans 
to  Balt'mo'.  He  tho't  so  much  uv  her, — she  being 
named  fur  his  only  baby,  an'  never  bin  beat  in  her 
life, — dat  he  didn't  give  her  in  his  will  to  young  mistis, 
fur  he  know'd  Marse  Richard  didn't  have  no  sho'nufT 
hoss-sense  an'  'ud  trade  her  off  fur  some  yaller  dorg  if 
he  got  ha'f  er  chance.  So  he  gin  her  to  Mister  Billy 
Sparks,  his  overseer,  dat  had  bin  wid  him  all  his  life, 
an'  no  man's  fool  in  enything. 

"Mister  Billy  Spark's  know'd  he  couldn't  gee  wid 


272  "UNCLE  WASH' 

Marse  Richard  arter  ole  marster  died,  an'  so  befo'  de 
marriage  cum  off  he  moved  to  anurr'  farm — er  little 
hill  farm  uv  his  own — an'  took  Jinny  McGrew  wid 
him,  all  unbeknownst  to  Marse  Richard.  She  wus  er 
han'some  dark  gray  three  year  ole  filly  den. 

"  I  didn't  see  no  mo'  uv  her  fur  ten  years — de  week 
uv  de  big  fair.  Es  I  wus  tellin'  you,  we'd  had  fine 
races  an'  Marse  Richard's  hoss,  Trueblood,  had  beat 
everthing  both  at  long  an'  short  distance,  an'  his 
owner  wus  dar  havin'  his  own  fun,  an'  all  his  own 
way — done  furgot  all  erbout  Miss  Jinny  an'  de  chilluns 
he  wus  so  busy  cashin'  in  his  tickets  on  Trueblood. 
At  night  he  wus  dancin'  de  Verginny  reel  wid  de  gals 
an'  braggin'  on  whut  er  great  hoss  he  had  in  de  stable 
an'  whut  er  fine  wife  he  had  at  home. 

"He  wus  sho'  mighty  s'prized  when  twords  de  end 
uv  de  week  up  rid  Miss  Jinny  in  de  fambly  kerridge 
lookin'  as  pretty  es  when  she  wus  er  gal  an'  all  de 
chilluns  in  dar  wid  her. 

"  'Why,  my  dear/  sed  Marse  Richard  when  he 
he'ped  her  out,  'You  heah?  I's  so  glad  you  cum. 
Hello,  boys,'  he  sed  to  de  little  fellers,  'you  done  cum 
to  see  Trueblood  win  de  big  race  fur  father?  Bully 
fur  you — chips  off  de  ole  block!  Jis  back  yo'  pennies 
on  father's  hoss — nothin'  kin  beat  him/ 

"Den  up  spoke  little  Robert, — he  wus  named  fur 
his  grandaddy,  my  ole  marster,  an'  de  very  spit  uv 
him  he  wus,  an'  he  had  hoss  sense  lak  his  ole  gran'- 
daddy,  an'  he  sed,  talkin'  very  bold,  lak  de  little  man 
he  wus:  'Father,  I  can't  hones'ly  bet  on  yo'  hoss — he 
looks  lak  er  quitter  to  me,  suh/ 


JENNY  McGREW  CAME  TO  HER  OWN      373 

"Marse  Richard's  gentlemen  frien's  standin'  by 
laughed  out  loud,  de  little  feller  sed  it  so  ole-lak  an' 
solum,  an'  Marse  Richard  flushed  an'  sed:  'Son,  when 
yo're  older  you'll  kno'  mo';  an'  don't  be  sassy  befo' 
comp'ny  er  father'll  hav  to  teach  you  er  lesson  right 
heah.' 

"  'I  begs  yo'  pardon,  suh,'  sed  little  Robert,  'I 
meant  no  disrespec' ;  but  when  my  money  goes  up  on 
er  hoss  I's  got  a  right  to  'spress  my  'pinion,  sun!' 

"An'  hit  sounded  so  lak  ole  marster  dat  I  nearly  died 
laughin'  an'  wanted  to  hug  him  myse'f. 

"  'All  right, — all  right,  you're  pardoned,  son. 
You've  got  nerve  lak  yo'  father  an'  yo'  judgment  I 
hope  will  be  es  good  when  you  is  older.' 

"An'  right  thar  I  seed  a  light,  but  Marse  Richard 
havin'  no  hoss-sense,  he  failed  to  connec'. 

"An'  I  seed  it  plainer  when  Miss  Jinny  smiled  an'  sed 
nothin'.  I  know'd  she  had  somethin'  'nurr  up  her 
sleeve.  She  sho'  wus  ole  marster's  own  chile;  an' 
when  Marse  Richard  tole  her  ergin  to  make  herse'f  at 
home  she  sed  ever  so  sweet :  'O,  thank  you  dearie,  but 
we  got  er  little  lonesum  at  home  an'  jis  cu'd'nt  help 
runnin'  over  to  see  Trueblood  win.' 

"  'So  glad  yo'  cum,'  sed  Marse  Richard — 'so  glad! 
Jis  make  yo'  se'f  at  home, — you  an'  de  chilluns.  I's 
mighty  busy.  An'  be  sho'  to  play  er  little  on  Trueblood, 
it'll  cum  in  handy  dis  winter  when  we  want  to  go  to  de 
Gran'  Op'ra  at  New  'leans.' 

"Miss  Jinny  she  jes  laughed. 

"  By  an'  by,  in  er  lull  in  de  races  I  seed  er  hill-billy 
ride  in  de  fair  groun's  on  er  ole  marr,  nearly  white, 
is 


274  "UNCLE  WASH" 

she  wus  so  gray.  She  looked  lak  she  jes  cum  outen  de 
pastur'  fur  she  had  cockle-burrs  in  her  tail  an'  she  wus 
grass-bellied  to  beat  de  ban*.  She  wus  follered  by  er 
weanlin'  colt  dat  had  de  air  uv  er  king  an'  cum  wid  his 
haid  up  an'  his  tail  over  his  back. 

"Enybody  wid  ha'f  sense  cu'd  er  seed  he  know'd 
whut  er  brass  ban*  an*  er  race-track  wus  befo'  he  wus 
bohn. 

"At  fust  I  didn't  see  dat  de  man  ridin'  de  gray  marr 
wus  Mister  Billy  Sparks,  fur  we  hadn't  seed  him  fur 
ten  years,  an*  none  uv  us  know'd  de  gray  marr  wus 
Jinny  McGrew,  fur  she'd  turned  white  in  them  years. 

"  I  fust  caught  on  when  I  seed  her  throw  up  her 
haid  at  de  soun'  uv  de  ban'  an'  de  ole  ginger  flashed  in 
her  eyes  es  she  caught  sight  uv  de  crowd  an'  de  clatter 
uv  runnin'  hosses,  an'  'spite  uv  Mister  Billy  Sparks' 
two  strong  arms,  she  tuk  de  bit  in  her  mouth  an' 
rushed  at  de  entrunce  gate  to  de  track  lak  er  steam 
engine  unthrottled. 

"Den  I  know'd,  spechully  when  I  seed  de  natchul 
bohn  airs  uv  dat  colt  dat  acted  lak  he  jes  cum  into  his 
kingdom — er  trottin',  bold-lak,  'roun'  his  mammy  wid 
his  tail  over  his  back  an'  cockin'  his  eye  at  de  jedges  in 
de  jedge's  stan'. 

"  I  jes  had  to  laugh  at  de  sassy  ways  uv  dat  colt. 

"An'  Mister  Billy  Sparks,  he  sot  on  the  ole  marr  es 
solum  es  er  country  deacon,  which  everbody  tuck  'im 
to  be, — or  er  nachul  bohn-pall-bearer,  he  wus  so  dig 
nified  an'  solum': 

"  'Eny  place  heah,'  sez  he  to  de  gate-keeper,  'whar 
er  gen'l'man  kin  hitch  his  ole  marr  whilst  she  suckles 


JENNY  McGREW  CAME  TO  HER  OWN      275 

her  colt?     De  ole  marr  is  mighty  fond  uv  her  colt  an' 
has  allus  made  it  er  pint  to  suckle  him  pretty  reg'lar.'  ' 

"De  gate-keeper  laughed  an'  sed:  Take  her  to  de 
hitch  yard  wid  de  mules.  Dis  gate  is  fur  de  race 
hosses  to  cum  in.' 

"  'Wal/sez  Mister  Billy,  'she's  nurver  run  wid  mules 
in  her  life  an'  she  ain't  gwinter  start  dis  late  in  de 
game.  /  ain't  'zactly  satisfied  when  she's  outen  my 
sight,  an'  she  ain't  'zactly  satisfied  when  de  colt's  outen 
hern, — she's  mighty  fond  uvdis  colt,  an'  so  I'll  jes  set 
on  her  heah  fur  I  cum  to  see  de  races.' 

"Den  he  flung  one  laig  over  de  ole  marr's  back  an' 
settled  in  fur  er  side-way  spell  to  watch  de  races.  De 
gate-keeper  he  wanted  him  to  move  on,  but  he  sot  on 
de  ole  marr  lak  death  on  er  tomb-stone  an'  'lowed  in 
his  solum'  way  dat  he'd  cum  to  see  de  races,  an'  whar 
he  wus  wus  er  fair  good  place  to  see  'em. 

'  7  want  to  keep  my  eye  on  de  ole  marr/  sez  he, 
'she  wants  to  keep  her'n  on  de  colt  an'  be  wants  to 
keep  hisn  on  de  race-track,  fur  he's  gwinter  be  er  race- 
hoss  hisse'f, — an' so  I'll  jes  set  heah  whar  it  kin  all  be 
done  at  onct.' 

"  It  looked  lak  dar  wus  goin'  to  be  er  row  'twixt  him 
an'  de  gate-keeper  but  Marse  Richard  cum  out  uv  er 
big  tent  nearby,  'bout  dat  time,  an'  he'd  been  playin' 
poker  an'  takin'  de  usual  habilerments  dat  went  wid  it, 
an*  de  fust  thing  he  seed  wus  dat  blood-lak  colt  er 
trottin'  erroun'  wid  his  tail  over  his  back  an'  er  tryin' 
to  git  over  de  fence  to  de  race-hosses. 

"Now  Marse  Richard  had  jes  ernufT  hoss-sense  to 
be  struck  wid  dat  tail  over  dat  colt's  back  an'  dem 


276  "UNCLE  WASH" 

fool  airs  he  wus  puttin'  on,  an'  he  stopped  an'  sed  to 
Mister  Billy: 

'  'Say,  ole  man,  but  dat's  er  mighty  han'som  colt. 
Whut's  he  by?' 

"  'He's  by  Dan  Rice/  sez  Mister  Billy,  not  takin' 
any  ondue  notice  uv  Marse  Richard. 

'  Tow'ful  good  colt,'  sez  Marse  Richard,  'pitty  he 
had  er  scrub  dam.' 

"  De  ole  man  shot  his  eye  down  quick  an'  keen. 

'Wai,  she  may  be  er  scrub  but  she  kin  jes  clean  up 
arry  thing  on  dis  groun'  fur  er  half  mile, — barr-footed 
an'  grass-fed  es  she  is.' 

"Marse  Richard  laughed  an'  looked  at  de  ole  marr 
fur  de  fus  time: 

"  'O,  sez  he,  'an'  whut's  sle  by?' 

"  'I  disremember  'zactly'  sed  Mister  Billy,  'but  I 
think  she  wus  sired  by  er  ole  scrub  dey  call  Timoleon, 
an'  ef  I  cu'd  git  up  er  little  half-mile  dash,  gentermen,' 
he  sed,  stroking  his  beard  solum-lak,  'I'd  hope  to 
prove  she  wus  worthy  uv  her  breedin'. 

"Marse  Richard  an'  de  gentermen  dey  nearly  died 
laughin' : 

'  'An'  you  want  to  race  her,  does  yo'?'  sed  Marse 
Richard,  er  winkin'  at  de  uthers. 

'  'Dat's  whut  I  kinder  had  in  my  min'  as  I  rid 
erlong,'  sed  Mister  Billy:  ef  I  cu'd  only  sep'rate  her 
an'  de  colt — she's  onduly  fond  uv  dat  colt/  he  sed 
eyeing  de  colt  proud  hisse'f. 

'  'How  fur  do  you  calkilate  she  cu'd  run/  asked 
Marse  Richard,  winkin'  erg'in  at  de  uthers. 
"  'Wai/  sed  Mister  Billy,  er  shiftin'  his  laig  to  dc 


JENNY  McGREW  CAME  TO  HER  OWN      277 

right  side  uv  de  ole  marr  an'  settin'  up  straight,  'I 
think  I  can  divorce  her  an'  dat  colt  long  ernuff  fur 
her  to  run  er  half — she's  onduly  fond  uv  dat  colt, 
gentermen.  Yes,  barr-footed  an'  all  dat,  she  cu'd  run 
er  half — least-wise  I'd  gamble  dat  she  cu'd  gentermen. ' 
'  'Look  heah,  ole  man,'  sed  Marse  Richard,  'you 
look  lak  er  good  ole  country  deacon.' 

"  'I  is,'  sed  Mister  Billy  er  strokin'  pi'usly  his  beard; 
'I  is,  gentermen — ole  Zion  Church,  Hickman  County — 
er  most  onworthy  follower  uv  de  prophet  Jonah  an'  er 
good  race-hoss  now  an'  den.' 

"Marse  Richard  laughed:  'Wai,  Deacon,'  sed  Marse 
Richard,  'I  hate  to  rob  yo'  uv es  good  er  colt  as  dat,  but 
jes  to  git  up  er  little  excitement,  I'll  race  yo'  ha'f  wid 
Trueblood,  an'  I'll  play  de  hoss  ergin  de  colt.  I  lak 
dat  colt,'  he  sed,  lookin'  at  de  rascal  er'gin — dis  time 
makin'  er  mouth  at  anurr'  hoss  over  de  fence. 

"  'You'll  hafter  let  me  hoi'  de  colt  at  de  wire, 
gentermen — de  ole  marr's  onduly  fond  uv  dat  colt,  an' 
ef  he's  hilt  at  de  wire  she'll  do  her  best  to  git  back 
home  by  suckin'-time.' 

"  'O  hoi*  him  at  de  wire,  on  de  wire,  or  thro'  him 
over  de  wire,'  sed  Marse  Richard,  'it's  er  go.  But 
who'll  ride  yo'  ole  marr — you  are  overweight?' 

"  De  deacon  nodded  at  er  small  hill-billy  boy  standin' 
nigh:  'He'll  ride  her — my  little  gran'-son — he's  rid  her 
arter  de  cows  befo'.  I  wouldn't  choose  er  better  rider 
dan  he  is.  Ef  his  galluses  don't  break  he'll  never  fall 
off  an'  he  do  ride  lak  hell-fire  in  er  close  place.  Excuse 
me  gentermen,  but  when  I's  on  de  race  track  I  some 
times  furgits  I's  er  deacon  at  home.  Whut  I  meant 


278  "UNCLE  WASH" 

to  say  wus  dat  he  do  ride  lak  de  devil  beatin'  tan  bark! 
Dat  fust  remark  wus  onnecessary  an'  onbecomin'  uv 
me — excuse  me  genterm^w.  Now  I'll  rub  de  ole  marr 
down  an'  git  her  er  good  feed  uv  cohn.  When  shall 
I  be  reddy?' 

"  'At  three/  sed  Marse  Richard,  still  laughin'.  'An' 
say,'  he  added,  'you  kin  back  out  now  ef  you  wish — Id* 
hate  to  rob  er  deacon  uv  so  good  er  colt,'  he  sed,  sorter 
bitter-lak. 

'  'Don't  menshun  it/  sed  de  deacon,  'de  colt  is 
already  yourn.  Now  dat  you've  pinned  me  down  I'll 
hafter  tell  you  dat  I's  been  lookin'  fur  some  nice 
genterman  to  give  him  er  way  to  fur  some  time — 
somebody  wid  hoss-sense  dat  I  know'd  wu'd  raise  him 
up  in  de  paths  uv  rightusness  an'  give  him  er  chance 
in  life,  an'  I  couldn't  er  foun'  er  nicer  man  to  gin  him 
to  if  I'd  scraped  er  blue  grass  county  wid  er  curry 
comb.  He's  yourn.  I'll  hoi'  'im  at  de  wire  wid  er 
halter  so  you  won't  hafter  run  'im  down  when  you 
wins,  fur  I  knows  er  genterman  wid  hoss-sense  when 
I  sees  'em/  he  sed,  lookin'  hard  at  Marse  Richard. 

"Marse  Richard  flushed,  but  he  thanked  'im — he 
wus  so  tickled.  He  never  had  hoss-sense  ernufT  to 
see  de  ole  man  wus  coltin'  'im  an*  he  wus  one  uv  dem 
kinds  uv  fools  dat  is  tickled  to  be  hit  wid  er  comper- 
ment  even  ef  hit  comes  wropped  erroun'  er  brick-bat. 

"  Thanks/  says  Marse  Richard,  'an'  by-de-way, 
you  ain't  gwin'ter  back  out  when  I  wins  him?' 

"  'O  sartinly/  sed  de  ole  man,  flushin'  hot  fur  de 
fust  time,  dar's  whar  you'll  hafter  watch  me.  De 
fact  is,  I  wus  bohn  backin'  out.  I's  er  cross  'tween 


JENNY  McGREW  CAME  TO  HER  OWN      279 

er  craw-fish  an'  er  balkin'  mule;  but  when  I  makes  er 
nice  genterman  er  present  uv  er  leetle  ole  no-count 
colt  early  in  de  mornin'  I  kin  generally  be  'pended  on 
not  to  steal  'im  back  outen  de  pastur'  befo'  sunset.' 

"De  wager  soon  spread  all  over  de  groun's  an' 
everybody  wus  sorry  fur  Mister  Billy  Sparks,  all  uv  'em 
agreein'  dat  ole  Zion  up  in  Hickman  had  sent  out  er 
Jonah  dat  wu'd  soon  go  into  his  eternal  home  in  de 
belly  uv  er  whale.  Dem  dat  didn't  think  de  ole  man 
wus  crazy  tho't  he  wus  er  simple-minded  ole  fool  dat 
had  never  seed  er  hoss-race  an'  tho't  bekase  his  ole 
marr  cu'd  beat  all  de  scrubs  er  quartah  in  de  woods  uv 
Hickman  she  cu'd  beat  de  wurl'. 

"  But  dat  dar  little  Robert,  he  laked  to  kilt  me  when 
I  heurd  'im  talkin'  jes  lak  I  heurd  his  ole  gran'-daddy 
an'  struttin'  roun'  chawin'  rosin  an'  makin'  lak  it  wus 
tobaccer  an'  spittin'  an'  sayin'  to  de  fellers  dat  sed 
Trueblood  wu'd  beat  her  er  quatah  in  deha'f:  '0,  gen- 
termen,  whut  you  talkin  'bout.  De  boss  is  er  yaller 
dorg, — bell  fetcb  er  stick  outen  de  pond  ef  you'll  thro' 
bit  in.  Wbyy  be' II  bury  er  bone  ej  nobody  wus  lookin. 
Beat  de  marr  ?  He  cant  run  fas'  ernuff  to  beat  er  drum. 
My  money  is  up  on  de  gray,  gentermen' — an'  den  he'd 
strut  erroun'  in  his  knee-pants  an'  ever'body  laughed. 

"De  airs  he'd  put  on  wus  er  toss-up  'twixt  dem  uv 
de  colt,  still  struttin'  roun'  wid  his  tail  over  his  back! 

"When  de  time  come  an'  dey  fotch  out  Trueblood 
he  wus  er  gran'  sight — in  de  very  pink  uv  er  good  fix  an' 
looked  lak  he  cu'd  run  fur  er  kingdom.  An'  dar  sot 
dat  little  rat  uv  er  boy,  settin'  on  de  ole  gray  marr  an' 
she  snortin'  an'  squealin'  fur  her  colt  one  minnit  or 


28o  "UNCLE  WASH" 

prancin'  fiah-eyed  an'  full  uv  runnin'  fury  de  naixt 
tryin'  to  break  way  wuhther  or  no. 

"An*  de  colt — Mr.  Billy  Sparks  wus  dar,  swinging  to 
his  halter  at  de  wire  an'  sayin'  ever  now  an'  den: 
'Hurry  up,  gentermen — /  can't  bol'  'im  long,  he's  so 
sivigus,  an  he's  'bout  es  fond  uv  bis  mammy  es  she  is 
uv  bim\' 

"An'  little  Robert,  I  had  to  laugh— he  stood  right 
by  'im  an'  offered  to  bet  his  very  britches  on  de  marr. 

"Marse  Richard  heurd  'im  an'  got  awful  mad.  He 
cum  up  to  de  little  feller  an'  sed:  'Son,  I's  gwin'ter 
teach  you  er  lesson  an'  some  hoss-sense  right  heah.' 

"Little  Robert  flushed  'kase  he  didn't  kno'  his 
father  heurd  'im  bettin'  his  britches. 

"  'See  dis  ten-dollar  gol'-piece?'  ses  Marse  Richard, 
lookin'  fierce-lak  at  little  Robert,  'take  it,  an'  ef  dat 
ole  grass-bellied  marr  wins,  hit's  yourn.  Ef  she  don't — 
listen  now,  I's  gwin'ter  take  yo'  pants  off,  an'  make 
yo'  go  home  in  yo'  shut-tail;  that'll  humble  you  an* 
larn  you  some  sense  too!' 

"  'I  really  didn't  mean  it,  suh,'  sed  little  Robert, 
'  'bout  my  britches,  but  my  word  is  my  bond,  suh,  an* 
havin'  sed  it,  I'll  stan'  by  it.  I  agree  to  yo'  condishun, 
suh,  an'  you'll  fin'  me  right  heah  when  de  race  is  over/ 

"  'Washington,'  sed  Marse  Richard,  turnin'  to  me 
an'  still  so  mad  his  voice  trembled,  'You  take  de  boy's 
pants  off  es  soon  es  de  race  is  over  an'  lead  'im  home 
down  de  very  middle  uv  de  pike.  Do  you  heah." 

"Yessah"  say  I,  winkin'  at  little  Robert. 

"Dey  wus  soon  lined  up  at  de  wire  an'  when  de  ole 
marr  wheeled  into  line  she  stopped  her  foolishness  an' 


JENNY  McGREW  CAME  TO  HER  OWN       381 

I  seed  dat  nervus  playin'  uv  her  years,  de  flash  uv  her 
ole  eyes,  de  quiverin'  uv  de  flanks  dat  wus  ready  fur 
de  leap: 

"  'Look/  sed  er  man  standin'  by  Marse  Richard, 
'don't  you  see  dat  ole  marr  is  on  to  dat  game? — she 
knows  whut  she  is  doin." 

"Marse  Richard  looked  worried  an'  at  de  tap  uv  de 
drum  never  did  I  see  any  thing  but  er  gray  ghost 
split  de  air  lak  she  done !  Flash!  an'  she  tuck  de  pole 
right  under  de  hoss's  nose ! 

"  'Great  Gawd!'  sed  Marse  Richard,  his  jaw  droppin' 
-'whut—' 

"  'De  gray  marr !  de  gray  marr !'  yelled  de  crowd. 

"  'Jes'  tryiri  to  git  borne  to  her  colt,  gentermen!'  yelled 
de  ole  man,  holdin'  on  to  de  halter  while  er  great  light 
gleamed  in  his  eyes.  'She's  onduly  fond  uv  dat  colt!' 

"On  dey  cum,  de  gray  marr's  tail,  cockled-burred 
till  hit  looked  lak  er  rope,  flyin'  out  behin,'  her  barr  feet 
fannin'  de  air  lak  de  buzzin'  paddles  uv  er  double- 
decker,  an*  runnin'  es  easy  es  er  swaller  bird  flies ! 

"An'  Trueblood,  de  starch  all  outen  him  runnin'  er 
length  behin' ! 

"Marse  Richard  stood  foolish  an'  pale:  'Great  Gawd' 
he  sed,  'Whut  is  de  matter  wid  her — whut — ' 

"  'Tryin  to  git  home  by  suckin-time,  suh,  hiis  de  colt 
she's  ihinkiri  uv!'  sed  Mister  Billy. 

"  'Stop  her!'  yelled  Marse  Richard,  snappin'  his 
watch  at  de  quartah — 'She'll  kill  herse'f — she's  run  dat 
quartah  in  twenty-five  seconds!' 

"  'Let  'er  die/  sed  Mister  Billy,  'She'll  die  game,  an' 
dats  mor'n  dat  dorg  she's  runnin'  wid'll  ever  do! 


282  "UNCLE  WASH 

Besides,  gentermen,  hits  mother  love  wid  her — she's 
comin'  home  to  her  baby/  he  sed  so  dry  an'  carries' 
dat  de  crowd  had  to  laugh. 

"Dey  cum  de  naix  quartah  lak  er  cyclone,  an'  fifty 
feet  frum  de  wire,  beat,  heart-broke  an'  worsted, 
Trueblood's  tail  hung  limbered  an'  lifeless,  while  de 
ole  marr  cum  in  runnin'  lak  er  queen  wid  her  petty- 
coats  afiah. 

"As  she  passed  under  de  wire  de  ole  man,  his  eyes 
shinin',  turned  de  colt  loose  an'  yelled:  'Go  darn  ye,  an' 
finish  de  race.  You  air  es  big  er  fool  'bout  yo'  mammy 
es  sbe  is  'bout  you,'  an'  down  to  de  naix  quartah  de 
pair  raced  laker  ghost  an'  her  shadder,  de  little  hill-billy 
on  her  back,  laughin'  lak  he  wu'd  fall  off  an'  de  crowd 
fairly  goin'  crazy  an'  yellin'  at  sech  er  sight. 

"When  dey  stopped  hit  wus  er  motherly  whinneyin' 
an'  er  suckin'-match  right  on  de  track! 

"An'  de  crowd — wal,  sech  laughin'  an'  yellin!  Hit 
took  Marse  Richard  er  minnit  to  git  his  bre'f  an'  anurr' 
minnit  to  git  his  tongue: 

'  'Great  Gawd!  I  can't  let  you  have  dat  hoss,  ole 
man,'  sed  Marse  Richard,  lookin'  pale  eroun'  de  gills 
an'  mo'  solum  dan  I  had  ever  seed  'im  fur  twenty  yeahs. 
'He's  entered  in  ten  futurities  in  my  name.  I'll  have  to 
pay  de  money  an'  keep  'im.  Won't  you  let  me  do  dat?' 
'Wal,'  sed  de  ole  man,  'seein'  yo'  hoss  never  had 
time  to  ketch  his  bre'f  frum  so  sudden  er  start,  an'  bein' 
an'  ole  fool  an'  er  nachul  bohn  crawfish  es  I  tol'  you,  an' 
havin'  er  heart  uv  charity  fur  de  misfortunes  uv  my 
feller  man,  I  guess  I'll  jes  take  de  cash  instead.  To  be 
hones',  it  don't  take  very  much  money  to  make  me 


JENNY  McGREW  CAME  TO  HER  OWN      283 

think  I'd  ruther  have  hit  in  my  pocket  dan  to  have 
him  in  my  stable/ 

"  Thank  you/  sed  Marse  Richard,  'dat's  kind  uv 
you,  an'  shall  I  jes  write  you  er  check  fur  five  hundred?' 

"  'Wai,  I  guess  he  ain't  really  wuth  dat  much/  sed 
de  ole  man,  ever  so  deacon-lak,  'but  I  have  allus  made 
it  er  pint  to  price  my  own  hoss  at  whut  I  tho't  de 
uther  feller  wu'd  likely  be  willin'  to  give.  I've  larnt 
he's  entered  in  twenty  thousand  dollars  uv  stakes  an' 
I  am  thinkin'  you'd  be  willin'  to  pay  ten  uv  'em  to 
keep  yo'  standin'  es  er  genterman  on  de  turf  an'  not 
be  expelled  fur  enterin'  hosses  you  don't  own/ 

"Marse  Richard  turned  white  an'  den  red,  but  he 
saw  de  pint  an'  writ  his  check  fur  ten  thousand  mighty 
quick,  tho'  hit  tuck  all  he  had  in  bank.  Es  he  handed 
hit  to  de  ole  man  he  sed:  'An*  now  will  you  be  kind 
enuff  to  tell  me  who  you  air,  an'  whut's  dat  ole  marr's 
name  an'  jes  whut  you'd  call  dis  kin'  uv  er  fool  race 
eny  how?' 

To-be-sho,'  sed  de  ole  man,  er  lookin'  careful  over 
dis  check  to  see  dat  hit  wus  all  right,  an'  payin'  no 
ondue  notice  uv  Marse  Richard;  'to-be-sho/  my  en 
titlements  is  Deacon  Billy  Sparks,  dat  onct  lived  wid 
Kunnel  Robert  McGrew;  an'  de  marr  is  Jinny  McGrew, 
dat  he  gin  me  befo'  he  died  an'  tol'  me  to  take  keer  uv 
her  lak  I  wu'd  my  own  chile,  an'  to  sell  her  an'  gin  de 
money  to  lis'n  when  she  got  into  de  pinch  dat  he  know'd 
wus  cumin'  fur  her.  An'  seein'  she's  got  hit,  ef  I  wus 
huntin'  fur  er  headin'  fur  de  story,  seein'  as  how  hit 
worked  bo'f  ways,  Miss  Jinny  bein'  in  de  gran'stan'  an' 
de  colt  at  de  wire,  I  jes  don't  think  I  cu'd  give  hit  er 


284  "UNCLE  WASH" 

better  headin'  calk'lated  to  'spress  de  idee  intended, 
dan  'Jinny  McGrew  er  comin'  to  her  own !' 

"An'  Marse  Richard's  jaw  drapped  fur  de  light 
dawned  on  'im  good. 

"Straight  to  de  gran'stan'  walks  Mister  Billy  Sparks, 
hat  off,  an'  check  in  han'  an'  up  to  Miss  Jinny  he  went 
an'  gin  hit  to  her: 

"  Hit's  yourn,  madam,'  he  sed,  er  bowin'  low  lak  he'd 
seed  ole  marster  do.  Ts  heurn  tell  dat  since  my 
good  frien',  yo'  father  died,  you's  been  er  little  short 
uv  cash  at  times,  an'  in  presentin'  you  wid  dis  check 
I  but  carry  out  my  promise  to  es  fine  er  genterman  es 
ever  lived,  an'  es  good  er  frien'  es  ever  gin'  er  po'  man 
er  start  in  life.' 

"An'  bowin'  low  ergin  he  mounted  de  ole  marr  an' 
rid  out  while  de  crowd  cheer'd  em,  an'  de  colt  went  out 
wid  Us  tail  still  over  his  back. 

"An'  Miss  Jinny  tuck  hit  an  cashed  hit  too,  fur 
Marse  Richard  fur  onct  had  sense  enuff  to  grin  an' 
humor  de  joke  dat  wus  de  laugh  uv  de  county. 

"But  when  little  Robert  'proached  'im  an'  sed: 
'Father,  ef  you  please,  shall  I  jes  keep  dis  ten  dollar  gol' 
piece  an  take  hit  home  in  my  britches  pocket?'  He  sed, 
'sartinly,  boy,'  very  short,  an'  got  busy  huntin'  er  cock 
tail  to  stiddy  his  nerves  an'  stan'  de  broad-side  uv 
laugh  an*  fun  dat  ever'  body  poked  at  'im. 

"An'  hit  sho'  changed  'im,  fur  er  month  afterwards 
I  heurd  'im  say  to  Miss  Jinny:  'Darlin,'  I  fears  Ps 
neglected  you  uv  late.  Turn  de  chilluns  over  to  de 
nurse  an'  we'll  go  to  New  'leans  nex'  week  an'  heah 
Jinny  Lind  sing!'  ' 


HOW  UNCLE  WASH  RODE  IN  AN 
AUTOMOBILE 

AS  soon  as  I  saw  him  I  knew  that  something  had 
been  doing.  I  knew,  too,  that  it  had  been  done 
several  weeks  before,  for,  like  an  old  breastwork  after 
the  battle,  there  were  signs  of  rents  and  scars.  He  still 
wore  some  sticking  plaster  over  his  left  eye,  and  a 
small  bump  was  gradually  hardening  to  ripeness  behind 
the  burr  of  his  ear.  But  worst  of  all  I  saw  his  dignity 
had  received  a  jolt — his  faith  a  hard  fall. 

"Vanity  uv  vanities — all  are  vanities,  boss,  said  de 
preacher  long  ago.  I's  herd  it  all  my  life  an'  preach 
ed  on  it  forty  times,  but  de  full  signifercashun  uv  de 
conternuity  uvdat  tex'  jes'  foun'  er  permerment  haber- 
tashun  in  de  habilerments  of— 

He  stopped  to  dodge  the  paper  weight  I  threw  at 
him. 

"Cut  that  out  and  tell  your  tale.  I  heard  you  went 
to  the  Democratic  Convention  at  Nashville,"  and  I 
looked  understandingly  at  his  battered  condition. 

"Oh,  yes,  I  went  dar,  but  I  didn't  tarry  long.  I's 
been  thru  de  war  wid  ole  marster  an'  I  kin  smell  er 
battle  erfar  off,  de  capt'ns  an'  de  shoutin'.  I  kno' 
rifle  pits  when  I  see  'em  an'  walkin'  arsenals  an'  de 
Rebble  yell  an'  all  de  yuther  signs  dat  tells  de  peace 
maker  dat  now  is  his  time  to  lay  low  an'  inhabit  de 
land,  so  I  laid  low. 

"You  see,  Marse  John  Fry  tuck  me  to  Nashville  wid 
er  Cox  badge  on,  gin  me  er  drink  at  de  Tulane  Hotel 

(285) 


286  "UNCLE  WASH" 

bar  an'  started  me  out.  But  befo'  I  hit  de  sidewalk 
sumpin  happen'.  Er  red-faced  feller  from  Shelby 
County  cum  at  me  wid  er  dirk  in  his  teeth  an'  drawin' 
er  gun  wid  bofe  his  yudder  han's.  Es  nigh  es  I  could 
make  out  whut  he  said,  boss,  wid  his  mouf  full  uv  col' 
steel,  it  was  to  de  effect  dat  I  had  on  de  wrong  badge  an' 
datef  I  didn't  makeer  change  certain  things  'ud  happen 
entirely  detremental  to  de  equanimerty  uv  my  conster- 
tushun. 

"'Marster,'  sez  I,  erlookin'  at  my  badge,  plum 
'stounded,  fur  it  didn't  take  me  long  to  see  de  proper 
s'lution  uv  eny  problem  when  de  question  am  put  on  to 
me  dat  p'intedly.  'Marster,'  sez  I,  'I  am  er  po'  ole 
nigger  dat  can't  read,  an'  some  frien'  he  decerated  me 
wid  de  wrong  colors.  Uv  co'se,  I's  fur  yo'  man — 
jes'  pin  yo'  badge  on  de  yudder  side  uv  my  coat. 
'Hurrar  for  Patterson,'  sez  I,  es  soon  as  I  fin'  out  whut 
his  man's  name  wus. 

"Dat  tickle  him  so  he  tuck  me  in  an'  give  me  er 
drink.  I  tell  you,  boss,  it  don't  take  so  much  grace  es 
it  do  agreement  fur  to  inherit  long  life  in  dis  worl '  and 
etarnity  in  de  nex'.  De  man  dat  agrees  is  de  same  dat 
is  gethered  to  his  fathers  in  er  ripe  ole  age,  an'  de  nigger 
dat  'sputes  is  de  nigger  dat  is  sooner  buried! 

"  I  went  out  and  pin  on  me  two  mo'  badges — one  wus 
Marse  Ned  Carmack's,  de  yudder  wus  Marse  Bob  Tay 
lor's,  an '  es  I  stalked  out  to  de  white  man's  armory  at 
de  contention  hall,  sez  I,  thank  Gawd,  I  luv  de  whole 
wurl'! 

"  But  one  look  at  dat  arsenal  wus  enuff.  It  reminded 
me  uv  de  ole  scalerwag  days  when  we  'Publicans' 


UNCLE  WASH  IN  AN  AUTOMOBILE      287 

an'  niggers  useterhol'convenshun  an'  I  got  erdoseuv  it 
den  dat  lasted.  Dar  was  two  faxuns  an'  me  an' 
anurr  nigger  wus  on  different  sides  an'  wanted  to 
control.  So  me  an '  dat  nigger  made  er  run  fur  to  see 
which  cud  git  de  chair  fus. '  I  got  it —  on  de  top  uv  my 
head  — an'  dat's  why  I  ain't  been  in  no  convenshun 
sense  an'  dis  one  look  too  much  lak  de  one  I  got  de 
chair  on  de  top  uv  my  head.  I  wus  on  de  way  to  Hot 
Springs  fur  my  rumatizn  an '  so  out  I  put,  fur  es  I  wus 
tellin'  you  I  think  I  kno's  rifle  pits  an'  breastwucks 
when  I  sees  'em. 

"I's  allers  contended,  boss,  dat  de  wurl'  owes  every 
man  er  livin'  an'  er  good  bath.  I's  had  de  livin'  but 
I's  neber  had  de  bath,  an'  I  heurd  Hot  Springs  wus  de 
place  to  git  it,  so  I  went,  hopin'  to  c'wore  my  rumatizn. 

"Dey  are  robbers,  boss — rooms  five  dollars  er  day 
an'  upwards  an'  baths  extry.  I  sized  up  my  bill  an' 
I  soon  seed  ef  I  tuck  er  room  in  a  hotel  I'd  soon  have 
mo'  room  in  my  stummick  den  I  wanted,  so  I  started 
out  to  git  er  dram,  an'  er  room  an'  er  free  bath  all  fur 
nuthin',  'cept  dat  nachul  instinc'  which  de  good 
Marster  gives  to  all  dem  dat  inherit  eternal  sense. 

"  I  seed  er  lot  uv  common  folks,  but  I  allers  make 
it  er  p'int  when  I  wants  to  get  sumpin',  to  go  whar  it's 
at.  You  can't  gether  figs  from  thistles,  nor  ducets 
from  dead  ducks,  nor  do  de  po'  white  man  an'  de  hill 
billy  ever  carry  much  erroun'  wid  'em,  but  er  clear 
conshuns,  er  tin  cup  an'  er  belly  full  uv  undue  sur- 
pishuns. 

"  I  soon  seed  de  crowd  I  was  er-huntin' — one  uv 
dese  dapper  Yankee  chaps,  loaded  wid  money,  an'  out 


288  "UNCLE  WASH' 

for  er  lark  an'  er  good  chance  to  study  de  nigger  ques- 
tun  down  South.  He's  de  kin'  dat  sees  mo'  to  intrust  him 
in  a  nigger's  fun'ral  den  in  a  white  man's  resurrecshun. 

"An'  dat  feller  was  sho'  fixed,  boss — he  had  ever'- 
thing  he  wanted — plenty  uv  money,  er  bran  '-new  gas 
wagin,  er  bulldog,  er  big  lunch  basket,  his  own  wife  an' 
anurr  man's  wife!  Oh,  he  wus  sho'  fixed  right. 

"I  seed  de  basket  fus'  an'  dat  'cided  me  I  had  hit 
my  crowd. 

'Marster,'  sez  I,  takin'  of?  my  hat  an'  bowin'  so 
low  I  mighty  nigh  spiled  de  ant  nest  I  wus  standin' 
on,  wid  de  top  my  head.  'Marster,  kin  yer  tell  whar 
er  ole  nigger  dat's  walked  all  de  way  from  Tennessee  an' 
ain't  got  no  letter  uv  interducshun,  kin  git  er  free  bath 
fur  his  rumatizn?' 

"De  ladies  laf  an'  dey  all  got  intrusted  at  once. 

"  'From  Tennessee?'  sez  he.  'Do  yo'  kno'  er  ole 
cullar'd  gen 'man  down  dar  name  Uncle  Wash,  dat  we 
read  so  much  about?' 

'  'Marster,'  sez  I,  bowin'  erg'in,  'I  has  de  honor  to 
inform  you  dat  you  am  now  beholdin'  dat  same  gen'- 
man  in  proprior  personee,  as  ole  marster  useter  say. ' 

"It  tickled  him  nearly  to  deaf.  He  winked  at  his 
own  wife  an'  smile  at  de  yudder  man's  wife,  shakes  my 
arm  nearly  off  an'  lef '  er  ten-dollar  bill  right  spack  bang 
in  my  han'. 

"  'I'd  ruther  see  you/  he  sez /Mister  Washin'ton, 
den  ole  King  Solomon  hisse'f. ' 

"  'An',  Marster, 'sez  I,  erbowin'  erg'in  'you  ammo' 
beholdin '  to  my  sight  den  de  Queen  uv  Sheba  wus  to 
dat  are  same  Sollermun. ' 


UNCLE  WASH  IN  AN  AUTOMOBILE       289 

"  '  Aint'  he  er  dandy? '  he  sez,  winkin '  at  his  own  wife 
an'  smilin'  at  de  tuther  one — 'don't  he  talk  nachul?' 

"  'Thank  you,  Marster,'  sez  I  erg'in,  but  winkin'  at 
de  bulldog — 'but  if  you  thinks  I  ta'k  nachul  you  jes' 
orter  see  how  nachul  I  eat/ 

"Dey  likin'  die  laffin'  at  dat,  an'  den  dey  open  up 
dat  lunch,  champain  an'  ever'thing  fur  to  eat.  I 
wan't  gwine  eat  wid  dem  white  folks — I'd  been  raised 
wid  manners'  but  when  I  seed  dem  fo'ks  thort  es  much 
uv  de  bulldog  es  dey  did  uv  deysels  an '  de  man's  wife 
call  dey  dorg  Darlin'  Dearie  an'  sot  him  up  to  dey 
lunch  lak  enybody,  I  knowed  I  wus  good  as  dey  wus. 

'Marster,'  sez  I,  'dar  am  two   things  I's  nurver 
been  raised  to  eat  wid — white  fo'ks  and  dogs,  so  jes' 
han'  mine  out  out  to  me.' 

"  'Oh,  nonsense,'  sez  de  'oman;  'Darlin'  Dearie 
eats  wid  us  all  de  time.  You  jes'  orter  see  de  clothes 
we  got  fur  him  when  he  need  'em.  Come  on,  Mister 
Washin'ton,  dat's  er  dear.' 

"  'Mistis,'  sez  I,erbowin'  low,  'be  keerful  how  you 
fling  yo'  intitlements  erroun' — dey  lynches  niggers  in 
Tennessee  fur  less'n  dat.  No,  Mistis,  I  ain't  er  deer, 
but  I's  jes'  er  plain  ole  buck  nigger  dat's  been  raised 
right.  But  if  you  all  kin  stan'  de  dorg  you  kin  stan' 
me/  and  wid  dat  I  lit  in,  fur  I  wus  sho'  hongry.  An' 
all  de  time  I  wus  eatin'  I  wus  tellin'  'em  things  so 
funny  dat  dey  cudn't  eat  fur  lafifin'.  Dat  wus  part 
uv  my  tackticks — all  but  dat  dorg — he  wus  er  low-lived 
dorg  dat  didn't  have  sense  enuff  to  see  de  funny  p'ints 
I  wus  makin',  but  jes'  keep  on  eatin'.  Ef  it  hadn' 
been  fur  him  I'd  got  all  dat  lunch, 

19 


29o  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"Arter  lunch  nuffin'  would  do  dat  man  but  we  mus' 
all  ride  in  his  gas  wagin. 

"Now,  boss,  dar's  one  thing  I's  allers  hated — er  gas 
wagin.  Dey  may  be  all  right  for  white  fo'ks,  but  I's 
allers  had  my  doubt  if  dey  wus  es  good  es  er  mule  for  er 
nigger.  'Sides  dat,  my  ole  gran'manny  wus  er  witch 
'oman  an  when  I  wus  born  she  se'd  de  signs  se'd  I 
mus'  be  keerfuf  'bout  gas,  dat  it  meant  my  death. 
Fur  a  long  time  I  thort  de  ole  'oman  meant  I'd  talk 
myse'f  to  death,  but  arter  livin'  to  my  age  an'  still 
kickin'  I  gin  it  up  till  I  seed  dis  gas  wagin.  I  knowed 
whut  she  meant  den,  ef  I  ever  put  my  foot  in  it. 

"I  bucked  an'  begged,  but  it  wan't  no  use.  De 
man  gin  me  anurr  ten  dollars  an'  sed  to  git  in,  dat  he 
allers  wanted  to  ride  wid  er  celebracy,  an '  now  wus  de 
time.  When  I  seen  I  had  to  I  sed  de  prayers  my 
mammy  tort  me  an  got  in. 

"  He  put  me  an '  de  bulldorg  in  de  front  seat  uv  hornor, 
as  he  calls  it,  an'  de  'omen  tittered  an'  laughin'  and 
dey  all  wus  happy  but  yo'  Uncle  Washin'ton.  I  was 
so  skeered  dat  I  cud  raise  de  ha'r  on  de  bulldorg's  back 
by  jes'  lookin  at  him!  De  man  teched  er  spring  an'  de 
thing  se'd  kersook,  kersok. 

"  'Say,  mister,'  I  begged,  'lemme  git  out  — dis  hoss 
is  got  er  bad  case  uv  erperzootic.  Hear  'im  coughin?' 

"Dey  all  laugh.  'No,  no,'  sez  de  'oman,  'jes  sit 
still.'  ' 

"Den  de  thing  'gin  to  quiver  and  twich  his  taillak 
he  wus  fixin'  to  buck. 

"  'Lemme  bresh  dem  hoss  flies  off/  sez  I.  Ts  sho' 
he's  fixin'  ter  run  away/ 


UNCLE  WASH  IN  AN  AUTOMOBILE      291 

"Den  de  thing  went  clamp,  clamp,  clamp,  on  de 
bit  an'  quiver  an'  sorter  bucked  an'  started  out  slee- 
clee-clee-clee-ee. 

"  'Bad  wind!'  sez  I;  'you  kin  heah  'im  blowin'  er 
mile.' 

"Wid  dat  we  moved  out  smoother  den  melted  lead 
runnin'  over  er  red-hot  stove  lid. 

"  'Kerlonk,  kerlonk,  kerlonk,  kerkonk,'  it  sed  so 
close  to  me  I  jumped  er  foot  high. 

"  'Whut's  de  matter?'  sez  de  man,  an'  all  uv  'em 
even  de  bulldorg — laughed. 

"  'I  thort  dis  wus  er  hoss,'  sez  I,  but  I  kno'  dat 
voice  am  de  voice  uv  er  donkey.  Dat'sone  thing  I's 
never  ride — let  me  out/  sez  I. 

"But  we  soon  struck  er  good  road  an'  wus  sailin'  so 
fas'  I  had  to  hoi'  my  hat  wid  one  han'  an'  my  hair  wid 
de  yudder,  but  dat  ar'  bulldog  he  jes'  seem  to  enjoy  it. 

"Jes'  den  I  seed  er  big  load  uv  white  fo'ks  comin' 
down  der  road  to  meet  us.  It  wus  er  picnic  uv  country 
fo'ks  loaded  to  de  gunnels  in  dat  wagin,  wid  two  cock- 
yeared,  skeery,  fool  mules  er  pullin'. 

"Honk!  Honk!  De  mules  thort  it  wus  Jedgment 
horn.  I  guess  dey  hadn't  lived  right,  an'  dey  started 
back  fur  er  safe  spot.  You  kno'  how  er  mule  kin  do  it — 
be  agwine  north  an'  de  nex'  thing  be  gwine  south. 
I  seed  six  different  kind  uv  country,  home-made  yarn 
stockings  huntin'  fur  different  longertudes  an'  later- 
tudes;  den  I  heard  some  tall  cussin'  frum  de  men  fo'ks 
dat  had  been  drivin',  but  wus  now  gittin'  de  sun  outen 
dey  eyes. 

"  Den  our  driver  made  one  big  mistake.     He  stopped 


292  "UNCLE  WASH" 

to  pollergize  an  dey  all  lit  on  me.  Dey  didn't  seem  to 
think  de  bulldorg  and  de  white  man  had  done  any 
thing.  It  wus  all  dat  nigger  ridin'  in  erauter'beel  an' 
skeerin'  white  fo'ks  to  death. 

"When  I  did  git  de  man  to  pull  out,  boss,  dey  had 
onermented  me  behin'  de  lef  year  wid  dis  slight  token 
uv  dey  love  an'  esteem. 

'An'  de  nex'  time  you  skeer  our  team,'  sez  they, 
'we  will  hang  you  to  de  fence. ' 

'Here  is  erten,'  sez  de  man.    Ts  so  sorry  fur  you.' 

"Sez  I,  'Marster,  dat  kind  uv  sorrow  will  cure  any 
bump  I  may  git.  Ef  you  deal  it  out  dat  way  hunt  fur 
anurr  mule  team.  I's  got  er  place  waitin'  fur  anurr 
bump  in  de  yudder  side  uv  my  head. ' 

"Dis  got  'em  to  laffin'  erg'in.  An'  de  way  we  spin 
erlong.  But  we  wus  gwine  too  good  fur  good  luck. 
Er  country  dorg  seen  our  dorg  ersettin'  up  dar  so  cheer- 
ful-lak  an  here  he  come  er  tarryin'  out  at  our  wagin. 
Now,  er  country  dorg  is  good  at  calcalatin'  de  speed  uv 
er  mule  team  wagin  but  when  he  tackles  er  gas  wagin 
he  thinks  he  can  snap  at  de  front  wheel  an  keep  out  de 
way.  I  heard  er  whack  an'  er  bowl  liker  heller-oh- 
roo-oo-t!  An '  at  dorg  was  soon  part  uv  our  underpin'in '. 

"De  man  didn't  stop  dis  time,  fur  de  bulldorg  wus 
bouncin'  up  and  down  tryin'  to  git  out  an'  swaller 
dat  dorg  erlive,  an '  when  he  seed  we  done  de  job  fur 
him  he  got  madder  an '  tuck  it  out  on  me.  He  grabbed 
me  in  de  seat  uv  de  pants. 

"  I  turned  on  him  to  choke  him  off,  but  de  man  yelled : 

"  'Don't  do  it,  don't  doit!  you'll  spile  his  sperritt!' 

"  'Good  Scotts,  Mister,'  sez  I,  tryin'  to  jump  out, 


UNCLE  WASH  IN  AN  AUTOMOBILE       293 

'but  he's  spilin'  mine,'  an'  I  whacked  dat  dorg over  de 
head. 

"He  jes'  sez  'ow-wow,'  an'  hung  on. 

"  'Turn  loose,  you  fool!'  sez  I,  er  tryin'  to  choke  him. 

"  'Don't,'  sez  de  'oman,  'it  ain't  no  use;  he's  boun' 
to  hoi'  on  till  it  thunders.' 

"  'Den,  for  Gawd's  Sake,  mistis,'sez  I,  'lemme  git 
out  and  pray  for  rain.' 

"  But,  Marse  John,  I  wan't  born  to  be  e't  up  by  er 
dorg  an'  set  still  while  he  dun  it.  I  jedged  by  de  way 
he  was  holdin'  on  to  my  britches  dat  he  wanted  'em 
mighty  bad,  so  I  jes'  shuck  'em  an'  tumbled  out, 
remarkin '  to  him  dat  dey  wus  old  an '  he  wus  welcome 
to  'em.  I  turned  er  summerset  in  my  shirt  tail  clear 
over  de  back  uv  dat  gas  wagin,  hit  de  groun'  on  my 
head,  bounced  up,  hit  in  two yudder  spots  an'  struck  er 
blue  streak  fur  de  woods. 

"  It  was  er  narrer  shave,  but  dar's  good  in  all  things, 
boss.  I  had  three  tens  an'  de  run  I  made  de  nex'  four 
miles  wid  mighty  nigh  all  Arkinsaw  at  my  heels,  think- 
in'  I  wus  er  'scaped  lunertic,  cured  de  rumatizn  I'd  had 
fur  ten  years.  No,  no,  boss,  gin  me  er  Hal  hoss  when 
I  locomotes  erg'in." 


UNCLE  WASH  ON  THE  PANIC 

PANIC,"  said  de  old  man  to  me  the  other 
night,  "is  er  invenshun  uv  de  white  man  to 
carry  out  some  skeme  uv  his  own.  Why,  dese  here 
panics,  Marse  John,  is  as  ol'  as  Ejup'.  De  Good  Book 
tells  uv  er  panic  down  dar  when  de  lean  swine  et  up  de 
fat  swine.  Dar  wus  jes'  es  much  money  in  Pharo's 
house  den  es  befo' — it  jes'  went  into  its  hole. 
Prosper' ty  is  lak  er  groun'  hog — hit  cain't  stan'  to  see 
its  shadder — hit  skeers  him.  But  it  don'  bothah  us, 
Marse  John,  fur  er  nigger  can  stan'  enything  er  white 
man  can,  an'  eat  er  lot  mo'  things  dan  de  white  man 
nurver  dreamed  uv.  Fac'  is,  nobody  enjoys  er  panic 
lak  er  nigger  or  er  po'  white.  Hit  fetches  things  down 
whar  we  c'n  reach  'em.  Why,  I's  been  eatin  'tuhkey 
reg'lar  sence  de  panic,  tuhkey  an'  spare  ribs  an' 
sausages  an '  beefsteaks.  All  uv  'em's  now  down  to  rock 
bottom,  thank  Gawd,  an'  I  hopes  dey'll  stay  down. 
Las'  year  tuhkeys  brung  twenty  cents  er  poun'  an'  po' 
white  fo'ks  cudden'  look  at  'em.  Now  de  farms  uv 
Middle  Tennessee  is  full  of  'em  at  any  ole  price.  An' 
hawg  meat?  Lawd!  I'se  greasy  inside  an'  out! 

"Panics  is  all  right.  I  enjoys  'em.  De  good  Mar- 
ster  put  more'n  enough  here  fur  us  all,  an'  when  some 
uv  you  folks  try  to  git  it  all  into  one  barn  or  bin,  an' 
let  de  res'  uv  de  worl'  starve,  it  gits  de  res'  uv  de  worl' 
sorter  suspishus,  an'  suspishun  am  de  mother  uv 
panics.  Den  arter  you  got  all  de  po'  fo'kses  money  in 

(294) 


UNCLE  WASH  ON  THE  PANIC  295 

yo'  banks,  you  claps  de  lid  on  an*  sets  down  on  it, 
sayin': 

"  'Have  conferdunce,  frien's!  Have  confer  dunce!  In 
Gawd  we  trusts!' 

The  old  man  laughed  for  a  minute.  "Dese  bankers 
minds  me  uv  er  time,  Marse  John,  when,  I  loans  my 
bes'  mule  to  er  preacher  nigger  named  Luke.  Luke 
borrowed  him  to  ride  to  er  deestrick  meetin'  in  West 
Marshall,  but  he  nurver  stop  dar,  but  keep  on  wes'ward, 
as  fur  as  I  could  Tarn  by  follerin'  his  trail  to  de  Miss'ippi 
River.  I  gin  up  bofe  Luke  an'  de  mule  es  lost  an' 
nurver  heerd  nothin'  uv  'em  fer  ten  years.  Den  one 
day  I  gits  er  letter  f  um  Luke  down  in  de  Pan  Handle 
an*  he  say: 

;  'Have  conferdunce,  brother,  I'll  be  back  soon  an' 
return  de  mule  I  borrered.  Have  conferdunce!  It  am  er 
godly  virtue!  Yo'  brother  in  de  Lawd,  Luke.' 

"  I  still  got  de  conferdunce  an  Luke's  got  de  mule! 

"Wy,  Marse  John,  we  don't  need  much  money 
here.  I's  knowed  one  baked  'possum,  dressed  wid 
sweet  taters,  to  wipe  out  de  de'ts  uv  er  whole  nigger 
settlement  betwix  'em.  De  fust  nigger  dat  cotch  it, 
an'  dressed  it  an'  cooked  it  don't  have  no  trouble er- 
passin'  it  to  de  nex'  in  lickerdashun  uv  his  debt — dat 
wus  dead  easy — speshully  as  ever'  nigger  wus  hongry 
an'  wanted  it;  an'  when  it  got  to  me  I  et  it,  an 'ever' 
body  wus  happy,  all  dey  debts  wus  paid,  an'  dah  wus 
plenty  mo'  'possum  in  de  woods.  When  dey  seed  how 
slick  it  wuck  we  'cided  f'um  dat  day  in  dat  settlement 
we'd  use  baked  'possum  es  er  mejum  uv£#-change  an' 
nobody  nuver  b'en  hongry  sence.  Whut  things  we 


296  "UNCLE  WASH" 

raise  we  trades  fur  baked  'possums  an'  keeps  gwine. 
Hit's  er  whole  lot  better' n  dese  here  packin'  house  certi- 
ferkits  dat  dese  here  white  fo'ks'  conferdunce  banks 
puts  out. 

"I  went  down  to  de  bank  de  yudder  day  an'  took 
one  uv  dem  packin'  house  scrips  erlong,  an'  begged 
Marse  Joe  to  gin  me  some  sho  'nuff  money;  but  he 
tells  me  dat  I  didn't  know  whut  I  wus  talkin'  'bout, 
dat  my  packin'  house  certiferkits  wus  er  long  ways 
better'n  money. 

'Ever  dollar  uv  'em,'  sez  he,  'is  wuth  er  dollar 
an*  er  ha'f,  de  money  bein'  dar  in  de  bank  fer  to  show 
it/ 

"  'Why,  look/  sez  he,  'it's  better'n  money,  I  tell  you, 
kase  ever  one  uv  'ern  represents  er  dollar  an'  er  ha'f/ 

"  '  I  tell  you,  Marse  Joe/  sez  I,  'they  sho'  is  valuable 
But  ef  ever'  dollar  uv  'em  is  wuth  er  dollar  an'  er  ha'f 
as  you  say,  hit  seem  to  me  mighty  keerless  uv  you  not 
to  keep  'em  in  de  bank,  an'  let  out  dat  ole  no-count 
money!' 

"  'Wai/  sez  he,  'dis  thing  jes'  had  to  come.  But  it'll 
prove  to  be  er  blessin'  in  disgize  fur  it'll  make  Congress 
do  somethin'/ 

"  'Yes,  Marse  Joe/  I  sez,  er  scratchin'  my  head; 
'but  it  pears  lak  you  is  settin'  on  de  blessin'!' 

"  'Now  heah,  Wash/  said  Marse  Joe,  'I  see  you 
don't  understan'  dis,  an'  I  want  all  my  bank  cus 
tomers,  black  an'  white,  to  see  jes'  how  it  is.  Now 
heah,  it's  dis  way:  Dese  stificates  is  better'n  money. 
You  comes  heah  with  yo'  check  fur  five  dollars.  I 
gives  you  two  dollars  in  money,  and  three  dollar  in 


UNCLE  WASH  ON  THE  PANIC  297 

stificates  which  is  worth  mo'  dan  de  money.  Now 
see?' 

"  'Yes,  Marse  Joe/  sez  I,  'I  see — it  dis  erway:  I 
goes  to  feed  my  ole  hoss  to-night.  He's  had  nothin' 
to  eat  all  day.  I  gives  him  two  nubbins  uv  cohn  an' 
then  I  hangs  up  in  his  hayrack  erb'utiful  chromo  picture 
called  Bringin  in  de  Sheaves  fur  him  to  look  at.  Dat 
orter  satisfy  eny  hoss/  sez  I,  'orten  it?' 

"But  Marse  Joe  didn't  see  de  p'int." 

The  old  man  thought  a  while,  laughing  gently. 

"  Dat  minds  me  uv  Br'er  Pete.  Why,  Marse  John,  er 
baked  'possum  is  not  only  de  bes'  mejum  uv  exchange 
in  de  wurl',  but  I's  knowed  one  uv  'em  to  raise  de 
dead!  You  think  I's  jokin'  but  I  ain't,  es  I  kin  prove 
by  ever  niggah  in  our  settlement  dat  seed  me  raise  dat 
dead  nigger. 

"Endurin'  de  wust  uv  de  panic  uv  sebenty-three, 
Br'er  Pete,  er  contrairy  nigger  dat  wus  allers  hongry, 
an'  allers  dun  jes'  whut  nobody  else  'ud  do,  'fused 
to  jine  wid  us  in  our  'possum  ^change  skeme,  bein' 
too  lazy  to  hunt  'possum  an'  too  contrairy  to  wuk  in 
harness,  an'  havin'  nothin'  to  eat,  he  kep'  er-gittin' 
weaker  an'  weaker  twell  he  jes'  nachally  died. 

"I  knowed  how  hongry  he  wus  befo'  he  died,  so 
'stidder  buryin'  him  de  fus'  day  lak  his  widder  wanted 
us  to  do  (fur  she  knowed  Pete  wus  difT'unt,  an'  she'd 
b'en  feedin'  him  er  long  time,  she  said,  an'  she  didn' 
wanter  take  no  risks),  I  'suaded  'em  to  let  me  try  my 
han'  on  Pete.  Wai,  we  laid  him  out  an'de  niggers 
come  fur  miles  to  set  up  wid  de  cawpse.  Ef  dar  is 
enything  er  nigger  laks  to  do,  hit  is  to  set  up  wid  er 


298  "UNCLE  WASH" 

cawpse  an*  go  to  er  fun'ral.  Why,  I's  knowed  meny 
an*  meny  er  niggah  to  die  jes'  to  see  how  big  er  fun'ral 
he  could  have !  An '  so  dey  wus  all  dar  fur  to  set  up  wid 
Pete.  Niggers  dat  hadn't  spoke  to  Pete  fur  ten  years, 
niggers  dat  had  beat  him  in  chicken  an'  dog  trades, 
niggers  dat  had  hoodooed  an '  stole  his  fence  rails,  nig 
gers  dat  wanted  his  wife,  niggers  dat  had  lied  erbout  him 
in  de  chu'ch,  all  wus  dar,  so  sorry  an'  yet  so  sati'fied. 

"You  couldn'  see  Pete  fur  de  gloom  in  dat  room, 
he  bein'  nachelly  black.  Now,  fo'  I  went  over,  I  had 
er  nice  young  'possum  baked  sweet  an'  brown  in  de 
middle  uv  steamin'  hot  yaller  yam  taters.  Over 
all  dis  I  had  poured  fresh  butter  gravy  mixed  wid  er 
little  barbycue  sauce  uv  vinegar  an'  pepper  an'  big, 
white  inguns.  Dis  poured  over  hot,  raised  er  insense 
dat  made  mighty  nigh  ever  nigger  dar  drop  dead 
wid  Pete. 

"  'Now,  brethern  an'  sistren/  sez  I,  es  I  fetched  de 
'possum  in  in  er  big,  ole-fashion'  stew  pan,  er-steamin' 
an'  er-splutt'rin'  an'  de  'possum  fat  sizzlin',  an'  de 
taters  sorter  coughin',  Ts  allus  know'd  dat  de  hair 
uv  de  dawg  wus  good  fur  de  bite.  Br'er  Pete,  as  you- 
all  know,  died  uv  er  panic  an'  privashun,  also  uv  bein' 
too  hongry  an'  headstrong,  er  lesson  fur  ever'  nigger 
heah,  dat  in  time  uv  panic  we'd  bettah  all  pull  togethah, 
hit  bein'  no  time  fer  'speriments  wid  yo'  stummicks. 
Knowin'  how  hongry  he  wus  when  he  died  an'  whilst 
he  lived,  I's  er-gwine  to  see  ef  I  kain't  fetch  him  to 
life  erg'in  wid  de  same  medicine,  fur  I  don't  b'leebe 
eny  uv  Pete's  orgins  is  out  uv  j'int,  speshully  his 
eatin'  orgins,  es  his  sorrowin'  widder  will  testify  when 


UNCLE  WASH  ON  THE  PANIC  299 

Pete  wus  in  his  usual  health  an*  appytite.  An*  whilst 
you-all  sing  dat  good  ole  hymn : 

'De  fat  uv  my  possesshuns  rise 
Up  in  de  nostrils  uv  de  skies/ 

"  Ts  er-gwine  to  try  er  little  'speriment  on  Pete 
dat'll  raise  him  'frum  de  daid  ef  enything  dis  side  uv 
GabriTs  hawn  kin  do  it.  Jes'  all  stan'  erside  f  um 
erroun'  de  bed  an*  gin  me  air  an'  elbow  room/ 

"  I  raised  de  winder  so  de  air  'ud  blow  ercrost  him. 
Dar  he  laid,  dead  as  er  'Publican  canderdate  in  Texas 
an'  colder'n  de  bunions  on  Marse  Fairbankses'  toes. 
I  felt  uv  'im  an'  I  knows.  It  was  er  fall  night  an'  only 
middlin'  cool,  but  Lawd,  Marse  John,  when  I  touched 
him,  he  wus  so  daid  an'  cold  he  turned  de  hair  oil  I  put 
on  my  haid  inter  taller! 

"  I  lamed  den  dat  er  nigger  dyin'  uv  honger  dies 
deader  an'  colder  dan  enybody. 

"  But  I  had  er  'bidin'  faith  dat  Pete  wus  still  hongry 
an'  faith  is  de  principullest  thing  in  wuckin'  miracles ! 

"  I  sot  dat  steamin'  stewin'  pan  on  his  chist,  in  his 
folded  arms,  so  de  win'  would  waft  de  scent  ercrost  his 
face: 

'  'Now,  bretherin  an  'sistren,'  sez  I,  'all  jine  in  de 
hymn  an'  gin  de  'possum  time  to  wuck.' 

"And  den  I  led  out,  givin'  it  out  two  lines  at  er  time 
an'  all  uv  em  er-follerin' : 

'De  fat  uv  my  possessluns  rise 
Up  in  de  nostrils  uv  de  skies. ' 

"I  stop  an'  look  at  Pete.  De  hot  'possum  steam 
wus  er-rollin'  ercrost  his  face,  but  he  wus  still  daid.  I 
led  erg'in: 


300  "UNCLE  WASH" 

'De  steam  uv  incense  it  am  sweet, 
Arise,  my  soul,  dis  scent  to  meet!' 
"Still  no  sign  f  um  Pete,  so  I  led  erg'in: 
'My  houngry  stummick  yearns  to  see 
A  taste  uv  dis  divinity!' 

"Pete  didn't  move,  but  I  see  de  res'  uv  de  congrega- 
shun  wus  tur'bly  'fected.     Dat  'possum  wouldn't  er 
b'en  dar  two  minits  ef  er  cawpse  hadn't  er  belt  it. 
"I  led  erg'in,  thinkin'  I'd  git  er  little  more  'splicit: 
'What  am  de  grejunts  uv  dis  stew 
On  what  I  stakes  my  faith  ernew . ' 
"Muffin'  f  um  Pete: 

'Possum  cotch  in  a  'simmon  treet 
Gray  an'  fat  es  he  kin  be. ' 

"  Dey  all  follered — dey  moufs,  lak  dey  eyes,  waterin.' 
'Cooked  wid  'taters,  gravy  brown, 
Inguns  wid  melted  butter  roun' — ' 
"Den,  bless  heaben!     I  seed  de  en'  uv  Pete's  nose 
'gin  to  wuck,  jes'  er  little,  lak  er  rabbit  snuffin'  gyarden 
truck. 

"  I  fairly  lif  de  roof  off  wid  de  nex'  lines: 
'Rise  my  soul,  dese  'taters  sweet, 
Rise  an'  eat  uv  'possum  meat!' 
"Marse  John,  I  over-done  it.     Fo'  I  could  say  Amen, 
I  seed  Pete's  mouth  'gin  to  wuck,  his  eyes  flew  opin,  he 
sot  up  in  de  bed,  whilst  ever  nigger  dar  turned  sum 
mersets  out'n  dat  doo',  an'  some  uv  'em  am  er-runnin' 
yit! 
"But  Pete  an'  me,  we  et  de  'possum!" 


HOW  BIGBYVILLE  WENT  DRY. 

"1  SEES  er  good  deal  uv  talk  in  de  papers  now  erdays 
1  'bout  gamblin'  on  boss  races,  an'  I  sees  dey 
'bout  ter  pass  laws  ter  brake  up  de  habit,"  remarked 
Uncle  Wash  the  other  night,  after  he  had  brought  a 
turn  of  wood  in  to  the  library,  and,  having  built  a 
crackling  fire,  sat  passing  his  hands  through  the  leaping 
blaze.  "  But  I  don't  see  no  use  uv  all  dat  hurraw  fur 
nuthin.'  Bettin'  am  one  uv  de  orgernal  sins  uv  de 
yunerverse.  Ever'  thing  we  do  am  er  hazzard,  frum 
ketchin'  er  microbe  ter  er  wife.  Why,  we  falls  in  luve 
jes'  lak  we  falls  down  de  stair  steps — all  er  chance — an' 
one  uv  em  'bout  es  bad  es  de  yurther.  Befo'  we  bawn 
de  chances  am  jes'  even  dat  we'll  be  er  gal  baby — jes' 
accident  we  ain't.  Es  we  grow  up  we  liabul  ter  be 
knocked  out  by  de  measels  or  de  whoopin'  cofT,  or 
choked  ter  deaf  on  er  chicken  gizzard;  an'  ef  we 
happens  ter  'scape  dese  we  mighty  nigh  sho'  ter  drap 
by  de  roadside  in  pollertics  or  matrimony!  I  tell  you 
sah,  life  am  er  big  chance  from  de  doctah's  fus'  visit 
to  de  undertaker's,  an'  jes'  es  likely  to  turn  on  de  size 
uv  de  hat  our  grandaddy  wore  es  eny  thing  else.  An' 
es  fur  bettin'  on  er  hoss  race,"  said  the  old  man, 
getting  excited,  "hit's  jes'  er  nachul  way  uv  lettin'  off 
sum  uv  de  surplus  chance-steam  dat's  in  our  bilers. 
Bless  yore  life,  sah,  I'll  bet  I's  bin  ter  mo'  hoss-races 
den  eny  yuther  man  in  Tennessee,  startin'  back  to 
de  days  uv  Haynie's  Maria,  Double  Head,  Rachel 

(301) 


302  "UNCLE  WASH" 

Jackson,  an'  de  swift  Paytona,  up  to  de  times  uv 
Procter  Knott  an'  Hal  Pinter,  an'  I  yuster  allers  put 
up  er  dollar  ef  I  seed  my  way  cl'ar,  an'  nurver  did  lose 
no  big  thing  twell  I  quit  bettin'  on  bosses  an'  run  up 
ergin  ernudder  combinashun  up  in  Bigbyville  way  back 
in  de  fortys.  Dat  cuor'd  me,  an'  I  ain't  nurver  bet 
sence. 

"You  see,  sah,  my  ole  Marster  yuseter  bet  on  boss 
races  nachul  es  he  chaw  terbaccer.  Es  de  Marster  is, 
so  am  de  servants,  so  am  de  chillun,  so  am  de  wife,  so 
am  de  mudder-in-1 — no,  no,"  he  said  quickly,  "I 
lacter  made  er  break  right  dar.  Wai,  enyway,  my  ole 
Marster  yuseter  bet  an'  run  bosses,  an'  when  I  wus 
bawn  on  de  plantashun  I  jus'  wus  bawn  wid  it  in  my 
lungs.  Befo'  I  cud  rid  er  boss  I  played  marbles  fur 
keeps,  stole  watermillions  fur  fun,  an  lied  kase  I  couldn' 
help  it.  Dat  wus  de  fix  I  wus  nachully  in  'twell  I 
made  dat  bet  dat  Sat'dy  evening,  fifty  years  ergo. 

"  Dar  wus  er  feller  run  er  bar-room  in  Bigbyville  den, 
named  Sid  Thompson,  an'  he  had  er  fightin'  dorg 
named  Jack — er  little  de  meanes'  dorg  you  ever  did  see. 
He'd  whipped  every  dorg  fur  ten  miles  erround  an'  got 
de  naburhood  uv  dorgs  so  tarrified  dat  you  cudden't 
git  er  country  dorg  ter  cum  inter  town,  dey  all  wus  so 
'feard  uv  him.  Den  Jack  gotter  playin'  tricks  on 
'em.  I  hope-I -may-die  if  he  didn't  yuseter  lay  out  on 
de  porch  an'  play  lak  he  wus  sound  ersleep,  but  all  de 
time  keepin'  one  eye  open  fur  eny  friendles'  lookin' 
cur-dorg  dat  mout  be  passin'  humbly  by — an'  den 
jump  out  on  him,  give  'im  er  double-spiral  circlin'  twist 
uv  er  shake,  an'  den  set  down  on  his  tail  an'  sorter  laflf 


HOW  BIGBYVILLE  WENT  DRY          303 

es  he  watched  dat  tarrified  dorg  go  yelpin'  up  de  rode 
fleeing  from  de  wrath  ter  cum.  Jack  wus  er  bob-tail 
dorg, — born  dat  way.  He  wus  so  mean  nachur  kno' 
he  wuddn't  need  no  tail  ter  wag,  so  she  didn't  give  'im 
eny.  Nachur,  I  have  noticed,  allurs  economizes  an' 
nurver  givs  us  eny  thing  we  don't  need — but  bless 
yore  sole,  honey,  how' often  does  she  also  fail  to  give  us 
er  few  uv  de  things  dat's  most  essenshul  to  our  welfare. 

"Havin  nufifin'  ter  do,  an'  bein'  bragged  on  'twell 
he  got  de  big  haid,  Jack  got  ter  be  de  meddlesumes 
dorg  in  de  wurl,  an'  soon  gotter  tendin'  to  everybody's 
business  but  his  own.  He  went  to  all  de  fun'rals,  an' 
yuster  take  de  las'  look  at  de  deceased.  He  went  to  every 
camp-meetin'  an'  whenever  de  song  started  up,  he'd 
howl  'twell  dey  would  had  ter  take  him  out — thinkin' 
he  wus  sum  city  quire  got  out  in  de  country.  But  de 
whole  country  bragged  on  his  fightin'  qualities,  though 
dey  lamented  de  lak  uv  his  moral  character.  Ps 
allers  noticed,  sah,  dat  genius  however  depraved  allers 
gets  de  fus'  seat  at  de  table  uv  public  erpinion.  Wy, 
sah,  de  preachers  even  yuseter  brag  on  dat  dorg  an' 
hold  him  up  es  er  sample  uv  gifted  meanness,  long  wid 
Tom  Paine,  Caterline  and  Benedic  Arnold — men  uv 
great  erbility  but  lackin'  in  de  one  p'int  worth  all  de 
res'.  He's  owner  hed  up  er  standin'  bet  Jack  cud 
whup  enything  in  hide  er  hair  dat  went  on  fo'  legs — 
an'  hit  looked  lak  nobody'd  ever  take  'im  up. 

"One  day  dar  cum  ter  Bigbyville  de  fus'  monkey  an* 
Italian  I  ever  seed.  De  whole  village  turned  out  ter 
see  'em — Syd  Thompson,  Jack,  an*  all.  De  man  he 
played  de  organ  an'  de  monkey  he  dance,  an'  Jack  he 


304  "UNCLE  WASH" 

sorter  looked  on,  mad  lak,  'cause  enything  'ud  tract 
mo'  'tenshun  dan  hisse'f.  He  sorter  bristle  up  pretty 
close  to  de  monkey,  an'  Syd  said : 

"  'Say,  heah,  Mistah,  look  out  fur  yo'  monkey — ef 
Jack  jumps  on  him  he'll  eat  'im  up." 

"Monkey  noo'  fraid  e  dog,'  said  de  man,  'e  whip  de 
dog." 

"  Everybody  laffed  at  dis,  an'  Syd  said: 

"Why,  man,  Jack  would  shake  dat  monkey  like 
errat." 

'  'Noo,  'no  shake  'im  lak  e  rat — monk  he  whip  de 
dog,'  said  de  man. 

"Dis  made  Syd  so  mad  he  tell  de  Italian  he  bet  him 
all  he  hed  de  dorg  cud  kill  de  monkey  in  five  minutes. 
But  de  Iterly  man  wus  game  an'  he  soon  fetch  out  frum 
erolebelt  'round  his  waste  mo'  gold  den  Bigbyville  hed 
ever  seed,  an'  told  us  we  cu'd  all  cum  in  an'  help  rob 
'im  ef  we  wantd  to. 

"We  wus  plum  thunderstruck.  Dat  little  thing 
whip  Jack?  But  we  thout  we  jes  well  have  er  fool's 
money  es  enybody,  an'  de  bar-keeper  mor' gaged  evry 
thing  he  hed  to  put  up  on  de  fight.  De  whole  town 
got  stirred  up.  Everybody,  even  sum  uv  de  folks  dat 
nurver  did  bet  befo',  an'  dat  preached  ergin  de  im 
morality  uv  it,  now  thout  dey  jes'  well  make  er  little  on 
er  dead-sho'  thing  es  eny  body.  I  wus  gwine'ter  git 
married  Sad'day  night  an'  ole  Marster  hed  give  me 
fifty  dollars  to  git  fixed  up  wid.  Dar  was  my  chance, 
an'  I  put  hit  all  up.  De  fight  wus  ter  cum  of?  de  naixt 
day  in  de  back  yard  uv  de  grocery  sto',  an'  dat  evenin' 
sum  uv  de  boys  drawed  er  picture  an'  put  hit  on  de 
• 


HOW  BIGBYVILLE  WENT  DRY          305 

post  offis  door.  Hit  represented  er  great  big  dorg 
shakin'  er  po'  little  monkey  ter  deaf,  an*  under  hit  wus 
writ: 

"DeEnd  Uv  De  Sucker." 

"Dis  sot  de  whole  town  to  laffm'  hit  wus  so  funny, 
an'  de  naixt  day  we  wus  all  on  han' — mighty  nigh  all 
Bigbyville — to  back  up  Jack.  De  constable  wus  de 
stakeholder,  an'  we  all  felt  mighty  sorry  fur  de  Italian 
an'  de  po'  leetle  monkey  in  his  spike-tail  coat  an'  cap. 
But  de  bar-keeper  said  dat  er  sucker  wus  bawn  ever 
minit  an'  de  lam's  wus  made  fur  ter  be  fleeced  an'  we 
all  laft — all  but  de  monkey.  He  jes'  winked  his  eye 
an'  said  nuffin'. 

' 'When  we  opened  de  gate  Jack  was  sound  ersleep 
on  er  pile  uv  leaves  in  de  corner  uv  de  back  lot.  We 
wanted  to  wake  him  up,  but  Syd  said: 

"  'Nurver  mind;  jes'  fling  de  monkey  in;  Jack  will 
enjoy  his  bre'kfas'  after  er  good  nap/  an'  de  Italian 
stooped  down,  unbuckle  his  chain,  whispered  sumpin' 
in  de  monkey's  year,  p'inted  to  Jack  snoozin'  erway  in 
de  corner  an'  turned  him  loose.  De  leetle  fellow  slipped 
over  de  ground  'twell  he  got  to  three  feet  uv  de  boss 
dorg,  den  he  jumps  on  'im  widout  eny  noise,  grabs 
Jack's  stump  uv  er  tail  wid  bofe  uv  his  hans,  sticks  it  in 
his  wide  mouf  an'  fotch  his  teeth  together  on  hit  lak  er 
wolf  trap. 

"Marse  John,  you's  heurd  dat  electric  batteries 
wus  invented  about  1860,  ain't  you?  Dat  am  er 
mistake.  I  seed  de  fus'  one  dat  ever  wus — right  dar; 
an'  Jack  riz  wid  it  on  his  tail.  'Round  an'  'round  he 

20 


306  "UNCLE  WASH" 

turned  in  his  mizry,  tryin'  to  shet  de  current  off,  but 
de  holt  wus  too  close,  an'  as  de  mizry  got  wusser  an* 
wusser  he  jes'  laid  back  his  years  an'  went  round  dat 
lot  raisin'  er  whirlwind  uv  leaves.  Torrectly  he  seed 
de  gate  ha'f  open  an'  made  er  break  fur  it,  knockin'  me 
down,  fur  I  wus  too  'stonished  ter  git  outen  de  way,  an' 
den  es  we  all  looked  down  de  road  de  las'  we  ever  saw 
uv  de  champion  dorg  he  wus  flyin'  to'ards  de  settin' 
sun  wid  er  pa'r  uv  spike-coattails  settin'  off  his  hind 
end  fur  wings.  Erbout  er  half  hour  afterwards  de 
monkey  cum  trottin'  on  back,  an'  added  de  final 
weight  uv  wretchedness  to  our  mizry  by  handin' 
'round  his  leetle  cap — es  if  we  hadn't  already  paid  fur 
de  exerbition. 

"Wai,  sah,  you  cudder  kerried  all  Bigbyville  home 
dat  night  in  yore  vest  pocket.  Syd  made  er  grate 
bluff  an'  tried  ter  claim  er  foul,  sayin'  Jack  nurver  did 
wake  up,  dat  he  was  dreamin', — dreamin'  de  devil 
hed  'im  by  de  tail,  an'  all  dat.  But  de  constable  wus 
hones'  an'  es  he  handed  over  all  de  money  dar  wus  in 
de  town  to  de  Italian,  he  'lowed  dat  'kordin'  to  his 
opinion  Jack  was  de  wides'  erwake  dorg  he  ever  did  see, 
but  dat  ef  he  wus  dreamin'  he  only  hoped  he'd  live  ter 
see  de  day  when  he'd  have  er  race  hoss  dat  cud  dream 
ha'f  es  fast. 

"  Boss  dat  busted  up  de  whisky  bizness  in  de  town, 
fur  Syd  moved  erway.  I  didn't  git  marrid  fur  er  year, 
an'  wooder  bin  single  yit  ef  de  gal  hadn't  tuck  pitty  on 
me  an'  'lowed  she'd  have  me  jes'  es  I  wus." 


'FUR   I   WAS  TO  'STONISHED  TO  GlT  OUTEN   DE   WAY. 


UNCLE  WASH  ON  GAMBLING 

"/^»AMBLIN',  Marse  John  is  puffickly  nachul!  Dar 

V-I  now ! "  as  he  recovered  himself  from  falling  over 
my  setter  dog,  which,  after  a  hard  day's  hunt,  lay 
stretched  out  before  the  library  fire — "dat  wus  er 
chance  dat  I  didn't  break  my  neck  over  dat  oblivermus 
dawg!  Ain't  dat  gamblin'?" 

The  setter  rapped  his  tail  on  the  floor  and  slept  on, 
and  the  old  man,  after  giving  the  dog  a  lecture  on  not 
knowing  where  to  lie  down  and  be  out  of  the  way, 
went  on  as  he  poked  up  the  fire: 

"  I  see  er  whole  lot  'bout  de  way  you  white  fo'ks  is 
misbehavin'  yo'se'f  dese  days  er-gamblin'  and  er-robbin' 
one  nur'r.  Uv  co'se  er  niggah  cain't  gamble — he 
jes'  plays  craps  es  nachul  es  er  groun'  hawg  smells  strong. 
To  gamble,  er  man  must  have  money  an'  be  'spectabul 
an'  so  when  he  steals  it's  jes'  'be^lemint.  But  when 
you  gits  down  to  it  gamblin's  nachul.  Nachur  started 
de  game  fust,  an'  whut's  de  use  uv  goin'  erg'in  nachur? 
Ef  you  don't  pattern  after  her  you'll  mighty  likely  wind 
up  wid  sumpin'  wuss  dat'll  stick  crossways  in  yo'  craw. 

"How  kin  I  say  dat?  Chile,  you  sho'  ain't  studied 
out  de  question  much! 

"Ever'thing  is  er  chance  in  life  wid  de  odds  all  erg'in 
you! 

"Wy,  de  ve'y  d'ciples  uv  de  Lawd  cast  lots  as  to 
which  shu'd  have  his  coat. 

"But  de  whole  trouble  wid  de  times  now  in  gamblin' 

(307) 


308  "UNCLE  WASH" 

—high  finance  dey  calls  it — runnin'  all  th'oo  ever'thing 
dat  could  be  watered,  milked  or  squeezed ! 

"An*  de  funny  thing  wid  you  white  fo'ks  is  dat  in 
ever'  big  wrong,  dat  needs  rightin',  you  pick  out  some 
little  ole  thing  to  make  it  er  scapegoat  fur  all  de  res'. 
You  pick  out  er  nigger  crap  shootin',  or  er  moonshiner 
makin'  er  little  licker  widout  revenue,  whilst  society 
games  go  on  even  'mongst  de  ladies,  an'  ever'  bum 
barkeeper  in  de  Ian'  cheats  Uncle  Sam  out  uv  three- 
fourths  uv  his  revenue,  by  addin'  dat  much  water, 
high  wines  an'  other  pizens  to  de  licker  he  sells. 

"You's  barred  hoss  racin',  where  men  ease  dey 
min's  by  playin'  er  few  dollars  an'  go  home  an  beehave, 
whilst  Wall  Street  sharks  gamble,  on  de  insurance 
money  uv  de  widders  uv  de  Ian' ! 

"I's  lived  wid  white  fo'ks  all  my  life,  an'  ef  I  wus 
axed  whut  wus  de  stranges'  thing  erbout  'em  I  have 
to  say  dey  lave  er  'spectable  name  jur  ever'  big  sin  an' 
damnaslun  fur  ever'  little  one\ 

"No,  sah  er  little  hones'  gamblin'  is  healthy.  It 
he'ps  make  brains  an'  good  jedgment,  quick  thinkin'  an' 
cool  haids,  all  de  way  frum  de  farmer  dat  puts  in  de 
early  crops  to  gamble  on  de  early  rains  to  de  brainy 
chap  dat  sees  de  comin'  city  in  his  cawn  fiel's. 

"No — no,  I  don't  see  no  use  in  all  dis  hurrah  'gin 
er  little  hones'  gamblin'.  Too  much  piuserty  ain't 
good  fur  de  breedin'  uv  de  race.  Dirt  ain't  considered 
nice  but  we  all  got  to  eat  our  peck  uv  it  to  be  real  men. 
Sturilized  babies  all  die  wid  de  fust  good  stomach 
ache.  Too  much  pi'usness  breeds  hippercrits.  You 
gotten  to  take  yo'  chance  in  life,  fur  it's  all  er  big 


UNCLE  WASH  ON  GAMBLING  309 

chance.  You  may  play  erroun'  an*  think  you  is  er- 
drivin'  de  chances  wid  er  good  rein,  but  de  chances 
is  er-drivin'  you. 

"Did  I  ever  tell  you  'bout  de  time  I  played  hoss  an' 
run  er  race  fur  stakes?  I  wus  er  young  nigger  den  an' 
great  Scotts,  how  I  could  run !  Ole  Marster  'spishioned 
I  had  speed  frum  meetin'  me  accidentally  one  moon 
light  night  in  his  watermilion  patch.  He  wus  lef 
at  de  post  an'  seed  nothin'  but  my  back — dat's  all 
dat  saved  my  hide,  but  he  'spisbioned  I  had  speed,  as 
I  wus  sayin' ! 

"  He  found  it  out  fur  shore  one  night  when  he  sent 
me  to  town  in  er  hurry  'tendin'  lak  he  needed  some 
medicine  quick  an'  tole  me  to  take  de  shortes'  rout 
home  or  he'd  lambas'  me.  De  shortes'  rout,  cuttin' 
of?  er  mile,  wus  th'oo  de  fambly  grave  yard,  an'dar  dat 
mischeevus  leetle  Marse  Henry  uv  his'n  had  dressed 
up  lak  er  ghos'  an'  got  behin'  er  tomb  es  I  come  by. 
It  wus  jes'  one  hundred  an'  fifty  yards  frum  dar  to  de 
picket  fence,  an  Marster  said  I  stepped  de  distance  in 
jes'  'leben  seconds  flat,  'sides  jumpin'  clear  uv  de 
palin's  an'  levin'  mos'  uv  my  garments  on  de  pickets. 

"Frum  dar,  he  said,  I  run  de  mile  home  in  jes'  1 159 
1-4. 

'It  wus  jes'  er  little  'speriment,  Wash,'  ole  Marster 
lafT  an'  say,  es  he  gin  me  er  good  toddy  when  I  got  back 
to  de  settin'  room.  'I  'spishioned  you  had  speed, 
an'  I  knowed  many  er  good  horse  lak  Haley's  Halli 
burton,  fust  discovered  it  wid  er  good  skeer.  You'll 
do/  sez  he  erg'in,  laughin'  t'well  he  nearly  fell  out'n  de 
cheer,  'an'  I's  gwine  to  win  some  Krismus  money  on 


3io  "UNCLE  WASH" 

you,  an'  beat  Judge  Burton's   sprintin'  hill-billy   he 
allus  braggin'  erbout.' 

'Master/  sez  I,  as  he  give  me  er  rum  toddy,  'don't 
you  think  you  better  have  me  blanketed  arter  dat 
heat — I  feel  lak  I  done  throwed  two  curbs  now/ 

"So  Marster  winked  an'  called  in  two  mulatter 
niggers  whut  tended  to  his  hosses  an'  tell  em  to 
rub  me  down  an'  blanket  me  an'  gin  me  de  fat  uv 
de  Ian/ 

Frum  dat  night  I  wus  great.  I  had  two  niggers  to 
wait  on  me,  exercise  me,  rub  me  down  an'  git  me  in 
speed  shape.  I  made  'em  put  er  silk  halter  on  me — 
I  wouldn't  come  out'n  de  stall  lessen  dey  did — an' 
when  I  did  prance  out  er-snortin'  to  run  down  de  or 
chard  track  fer  exercise  ever'  day,  an'  sho  whut  I  could 
do,  it  wus  lined  wid  pretty  yaller  gals  an'  pickaninnies 
all  er-singin: 

"  'See,  de  konkrin'  hero  comes.' 

"  I  allus  did  b'leeve  dat  de  white  fo'ks  orter  let  er 
nigger  have  es  many  wives  es  he  pleases  (fur  he's  gwine 
to  have  'em  anyway !)  an'  dat  wus  one  time  I  cu'd  er 
married  all  de  yaller  gals  on  two  plantations ! 

"  De  race  wus  to  come  off  de  Sat'd'y  befo'  Krismus, 
down  de  principullest  street  in  de  town,  to  be  followed 
by  er  tuckey  an'  beef  shootin'  an'  sum  udder  little  sport. 
In  dem  days  white  fo'ks  wa'nt  so  squeamish— dey 
wucked  hard,  fit,  cleared  de  Ian',  raced  horses,  shot 
fur  beef,  married  when  dey  got  ready,  drunk  licker  ef 
dey  wanted  it,  had  fun  when  dey  c'u'd,  an'  fights  when 
dey  c'u'dn't,  an'  died  'spectabul  when  de  time  cum, 
ef  dey  didn't  die  befo'  dat. 


UNCLE  WASH  ON  GAMBLING  311 

"Now  it's  all  wuck,  no  fun,  no  fight,  an'  ever' body 
preachin' ! 

"It  may  be  best  but  it  ain't  breedin'  men,  Marse 
John! 

"  'Citement  run  high.  It  wus  de  talk  uv  de  coun 
try,  dis  race  'tween  Kunnel  Young's  nigger  Wash 
an*  Slim  Jim  Coon — de  hill-billy  backed  by  Judge 
Burton.  Marster  had  up  er  hundred  on  me  erg'inst 
Judge  Burton's  hundred  on  de  hill-billy.  O,  dey  bet 
lak  gem'men — special'  in  dem  ole  times.  But  all  de 
time  he  seed  dat  I  wus  hard  es  er  hound's  rib,  rubbed 
down  to  er  muscle  an'  bone  an'  dat  my  toe  nails  want 
trimmed — for  it  wus  er  bar'foot  race  down  de  public 
road,  an'  Marster  laflf  an'  say  ef  I  could  git  er  good  skeer 
and  plenty  uv  toe-holt,  all  hell  couldn't  beat  me! 

"De  trainin'  wuserleetle  hard  twixt  de  rubbin'  an* 
de  runnin',  an'  Marse  wouldn't  let  'em  give  me  no 
whisky,  terbacco,  coffee  er'  sugar — an'  dat  wus  hard 
— jes'  whey  milk  an*  oatmeal.  It  sho'  wus  indiffunt 
fodder,  livin'  es  I  had  b'en  on  beefsteak  an'  cawn-pone! 

"I  never  seed  Slim  Jim  till  de  day  uv  de  race. 
De  whole  male  'swasion  uv  de  country  wus  dar,  black 
an'  white.  De  town  marshal  wus  de  starter,  three 
country  squires  wus  j edges,  an'  de  track  wus  in  de 
main  street  an'  harried  hard  an'  good. 

"  I  seed  den  whar  my  toe-holt  'ud  come  in. 

"  I  wus  sho'  proud  uv  my  app'intment.  I  went  dar 
under  er  red  blanket,  pejammers,  satin  slippers,  an'er 
silk  halter.  But  when  Marster  had  me  stripped  fur  de 
race,  I  didn't  have  on  nothin'  but  er  fig  leaf  an'  er  halter 
— an'  be  pulled  off  de  baiter!  He  said  he  wanted  me 


312  "UNCLE  WASH" 

to  run  lak  my  ancestors  useter  run  when  de  ghos'  uv 
er  g'rilla  got  after  'em  in  de  woods  uv  Africa! 

"It  wus  de  bigges'  day  uv  my  life.  De  boys  dat 
wanted  to  play  de  races  would  come  an'  look  me  over, 
an'  den  I  ac'  boss  to  pufTecshun.  I'd  snort,  paw  de 
air,  kick  at  ever' body  dat  come  too  nigh,  an'  you  never 
seed  sech  bettin'  as  wus  put  up!  Whole  hatfuls  uv 
knives,  pistols,  watches — ever'thing  dey  had — silver 
dollars  up  in  leetle  piles  all  up  an'  down  de  sidewalk. 

"Wai,  sah,  arter  lookin'  us  all  over,  de  wurd  soon 
come  dat  I  wus  de  fav'rit',  an'  dey  said  ever'thing  wus 
jes'  piled  on  me. 

"All  but  de  hill-billies,  dey  bet  on  Slim  Jim. 

"  I  felt  mighty  proud  an'  'tarmined  to  run  my  best. 

"  'Bout  dat  time  dar  come  to  me  er  little,  flashy- 
dressed,  tin-horn  gambler — de  same  dat  has  made 
hoss  racin'  pestiferous  in  de  Ian'  twell  all  decent  fo'ks 
is  erg'in  it. 

"He  tempted  me  lak  de  sarpent  tempted  Adam  an' 
lak  Adam,  I  fell,  Marse  John,  I  sho'  did. 

"Well,  Marse  John,  him  an'  me,  we  hilt  er  earnest 
conversashun,  an'  when  he  slipped  back,  I  had  two 
hundred  dollars  uv  his  money,  which  I  calc'lated  would 
pay  back  Marse  de  hundred  he'd  loose  on  me,  him 
bein'  de  only  one  I  wus  uneasy  about  an  dat  chiefly 
on  account  uv  my  hide! 

"  Den  Mister  Tin  Horn  bet  erg'in  me  to  beat  de  worl'. 

"Wai,  long  little  befo'  noon,  de  time  come.  Ole 
Marster  drove  me  down  to  de  track  in  his  buggy,  me 
wid  my  scarlet  blanket,  an'  my  black  hide  shinin'  out 
lak  er  lookin'  glass.  De  streets  wus  jes'  crowded  wid 


UNCLE  WASH  ON  GAMBLING  313 

er  long  line  uv  yellin',  jos'lin'  men,  an'  boys  scootin' 
'bout  betwixt  dar  laigs,  an'  m'latter  gals,  an'  sum  uv 
'em  throwed  flowers  inter  my  buggy — Lawd!  Lawd! 
Marse  John." 

The  old  man  broke  off  reminiscently,  rubbed  his 
hands  softly  down  my  setter's  back,  as  the  gaudy 
vision  floated  into  his  heart  again. 

"Slim  Jim  wus  done  dar.  I  never  seed  sich  er  white 
man  in  all  my  bawn  days.  Now  I  wus  mod'rate  built 
fur  runnin',  an'  I  had  muscles  bulgin'  out  all  over  my 
body,  I  t'ink  dey  mus'  er  been  er  streak  uv  de  Norman 
in  me  somewhere;  but  dat  Slim  Jim!  Why,  Marse 
John,  dat  man  Slim  Jim,  mus'  suttinly  b'en  er  cross 
twixt  er  jack  rabbit  an'  er  grasshopper.  He  wus  jes' 
a  pair  uv  laigs  j'ined  togedder  wid  er  po'-white  hide. 
I  looked  him  over,  an'  de  crowd  looked  him  over,  an' 
den  when  I  jumps  out'n  de  buggy,  an,  th'ows  off  my 
scarlet  robe,  de  crowd  looks  me  over,  an'  den  sich 
yellin' !  You  see,  dey  wus  countin'  on  de  muscles  on 
my  arms  an'  chist  to  he'p  me  erlong  in  runnin'. 

"Men  would  come  erroun'  an'  punch  an'  thump 
me,  an'  I'd  shy,  an'  kick,  an'  froth  at  de  mouf,  an'  de 
niggah  dat  Marster  had  'p'inted  would  juk  at  my 
halter,  an'  say,  'Quiet  now,  Wasln.  Slow  down  ol' 
boss,  you  se  gwinter  git  on  de  track  mighty  shawtly.' 
Den  he'd  pat  me  on  de  haid  an'  I'd  th'ow  up  my  haid 
an'  look  out  uv  my  eyes  wild  lak;  aji'  dem  mulatter 
gals — I  sho'  thought  dey'd  have  fits  er-lafFm'.  Ever'- 
body  wus  'mused. 

"Well,  sah,  de  'citement  got  in  my  blood,  an'  'fo' 
goodness.1  I  jes'  begin  to  wish  I  hadn't  took  dat  Tin 


314  "UNCLE  WASH" 

Horn's  two  hundred.  I  felt  lak  I'd  ruther  have  dat 
race  dan  any  two  hundred  dat  ever  wus  coined. 

"Me  beat  'fo'  all  dese  pussons?  I  jes'  couldn't  stan' 
de  thought ! 

"Last  we  wus  lined  up,  me  an'  Slim  Jim.  'Way 
down  yander  stretched  de  road  jes'  ez  level  an'  smooth 
ez  de  road  to  distruckshun.  On  both  sides  dar  wus 
people  lookin'  up  our  direcshun — er  long  line  uv  haids, 
turned  to'des  us,  wid  er  occasional  flutt'rin  han' 
kerchief,  or  de  roses  in  some  yaller  gal's  han's. 

"  I  never  saw  de  sun  so  bright  in  all  my  life. 

"We  stood  dar  all  scrooched  over  lak  Marster  showed 
me.  I  could  feel  ever'  muscle  in  my  body  jes'  waitin  to 
git  to  wuck.  Slim  Jim  wus  bent  up  lak  er  steel  spring, 
too.  De  crowd  wus  tiptoein'  an  scrougin'. 

"Sudden  like — Bang!    went  de  Judge's  pistol. 

"Hoi'  myse'f  in!  Fo'  de  Lawd,  I  thought  I  wus  er 
hoss!  Min'  dat  two  hundred  fur  goin'  slow?  I  tell 
you,  Marse  John,  I  tucked  dis  haid  down  an  f-l-e-w. 
I  jes'  kinder  seed  er  blur  on  both  sides  uv  me  as  I 
passed  de  people.  I  could  heer  er  lot  uv  whoopin' 
an'  hollerin'  somewhar — I  didn't  know  whar.  I  wus 
es'  tearin'  up  de  yeth. 

"All  at  once  I  hearer  yellin',  "Slim  Jim!  Slim  Jim! 
Slim  Jim!"  An'  den  I  looked  up. 

"An'  would  you  b'lebe  it,  Marse  John,  dar  was  dat 
fool  Slim  Jim,  Kinder  lopin'  'long  in  front  uv  me,  jes' 
sorter  driftin'  erlong  lazy  lak,  an'  lookin'  roun'  grinnin' 
back  at  me,  lak  he  wus  out  fur  er  little  jog  trot.  'Hurry 
up,'  se%  ~he,  'you  fool  nigger!  l¥hut  you  loafin  fur .' 

"Hit  made  me    mad.     'Gosh/  sez  I,  Til  ketch  dat 


UNCLE  WASH  ON  GAMBLING  315 

blame  greyhoun'  ef  hit  breaks  my  back/  an'  I  let  out 
er  couple  uv  loops  in  my  gait  an'  fairly  heated  de  track 
wid  my  speed. 

"  I  'pro'ched  him  some,  when  wid  er  swat  uv  sickly 
grin  at  me,  Slim  Jim  turned  his  haid  down  de  track 
an'  sorter  shook  me  into  de  distance  behin'  him,  an 
hones',  Marse  John,  I  had  to  look  erroun'  at  de  crowd 
to  see  whedder  I  was  movin'  er  stan'  in'still ! 

''Den  de  mos'  erstonishin'  thing  happened:  Jes' 
es  dat  long,  keen  racer  wus  er-crackin'  de  atmosphere, 
he  stubbed  his  toe,  'bout  half  way  down  de  track, 
an'  he  rolled  over  an'  over  fur  'bout  er  hundred  yards 
f aster' n  I  could  run  to  save  my  neck.  Befo'  he  had 
picked  hisse'f  up,  I  had  passed  him,  an'  felt  onst  more 
dat  I  wus  about  de  fastest  thing  dat  ever  paced  er 
quarter. 

"Den  I  thought  uv  dat  two  hundred! 
"I   thought   quick  an'    I    acted  quick.     I   knowed 
Slim  Jim  never  stump  his  toe,  case  I  never  seed  er 
jack  rabbit  stump  his  toe  in  all  my  days.    Slim  Jim 
lad  sold  out,  too! 

"  I  thought  quick  an'  acted  quick.  All  uv  er  studdint, 
I  begun  caperin'  'cross  de  track,  broke  my  gait,  kicked 
out  my  heels,  an'  es  good  luck  had  it,  er  piece  uv  news 
paper  come  blowin'  'cross  de  street,  dat  somebody 
had  dropped — an'  my,  you  orter  seed  me  shy  at  de 
thing!  I  jes'  cavorted.  Th'owed  up  my  haid  an' 
neighed — turned  roun,  lef  de  track  an'  went  hell-bent 
to  ole  Marster's  stables,  an'  I  didn't  stop  twell  I  got  dar! 
"An'  I  carried  dat  two  hundred  wid  me — de  gift 
uv  de  Tin  Horn  to  de  lost  cause." 


316  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"But  I  don't  understand,"  I  began. 

The  old  man  laughed. 

"Wai,  maybe  not.  But  don't  you  see — bein'  es 
we  wus  bofe  bought  out,  an'  Slim  Jim's  fake  fall,  an' 
me  boltin'  de  track,  de  race  wus  off,  nobody  won,  an' 
de  fools  dat  bet  on  bofe  sides  wus  saved,  all  but  de  Tin 
Horn  dat  bought  me.  I  had  his  two  hundred,  an' 
Marster  said  it  served  de  Tin  Horn  gambler  right— 
everihing  bein  fair  in  er  steal. 

"'But  I's  sorry,"  sez  he,  "to  see  de  sport  uv  gentle- 
mun  ruined  by  cheap  gamblin'." 


HOW  UNCLE  WASH  MARRIED  THE 
WIDOW 

THE  old  man  had  been  so  comfortably  fixed  of 
late  that  I  had  not  bothered  about  him.  I 
had  heard  vague  rumors  of  his  wealth — how  that  he 
owned  a  forty-acre  farm,  with  a  good  home — well 
stocked,  and  that  he  lorded  it  over  the  dusky  citizens 
of  Dark  Bottom — a  very  Croesus. 

I  had  even  heard  that  he  had  married  again — 
the  thirteenth  time — and  to  a  handsome  yellow  widow 
who  came  into  Dark  Bottom  from  Alabama  and  taught 
the  district  school  and  played  on  the  church  organ. 
There  was  a  hot  rivalry  for  the  organist  it  is  said,  last 
ing  from  potato-planting  and  culminating  to  white 
heat  during  the  dog-days;  that  every  young  darky 
in  the  district  wanted  her,  but  that  the  old  man  won 
out;  that  now  he  drove  around  in  splendor,  lived  like 
a  lord,  looked  twenty  years  younger,  had  the  buxomest 
and  fattest  saddle-colored  wife  in  the  state  and  had 
taken  a  new  lease  on  life. 

But  what  astonished  me  more  was  the  rumor  that 
the  old  man  owned  a  dozen  darkies  himself — in  plain 
violation  of  the  law  of  the  land  and  the  Fourteenth 
Amendment  to  the  Constitution. 

I  imagined,  naturally,  that  the  Alabama  widow  had 
had  something  to  do  with  all  this,  but  not  having  seen 
the  old  man  lately  I  was  anxious  for  a  report. 

All  the  earthly  possessions  he  had,  two  years  ago, 
besides  a  kidney  plaster  for  his  back,  some  eel-skin 

(317) 


318  "UNCLE  WASH" 

garters  and  a  suit  of  old  clothes,  was  an  old  Hal 
mare,  with  a  long  pedigree  and  a  short  lease  on  life, 
which  a  local  butcher  had  given  him  rather  than  des 
troy  her.  She  had  been  drawing  his  delivery  wagon 
for  ten  years,  had  run  away  regularly  in  the  full  of 
every  moon,  and  had  finally  splintered  her  hocks  in 
kicking  at  a  preacher  who  had  stopped  her  driver  in 
the  middle  of  the  pike  to  argue  on  the  sin  of  horse 
racing. 

It  was  a  pretty  day  and  nearing  Christmas.  I 
knew  the  old  man  would  be  over  soon,  knowing  that  I 
always  had  a  present  for  him  in  the  shape  of  a  quart 
of  Cascade  and  a  pound  of  Navy  Twist. 

It  is  the  unexpected  that  happens,  and  my  surprise 
was  great.  He  came,  but  instead  of  shambling  down 
the  pike  in  the  ragged  suit  of  old  clothes,  he  drove 
up  in  a  rubber-tired  trap,  drawn  by  a  pair  of  bays. 
He  wore  a  silk  hat,  a  new  Prince  Albert  suit,  sported 
a  gold-headed  cane,  and  had  three  darkies  to  wait  on 
him*  Two  sat  in  front  to  drive  while  a  footman  sat 
behind.  They  ran  in  ages  from  twelve  to  eighteen  and 
were  smart-looking  yellow  fellows.  On  the  seat  with 
him  were  two  big  bronze  gobblers. 

"In  the  name  of  heaven,  old  man!"  I  exclaimed 
as  I  met  the  turnout  at  the  door,  "but  I  thought  you 
were  the  Sultan  of  Sulu  coming  after  my  cook." 

He  gave  me  a  wink  as  much  as  to  say  that  he  was 
on  his  dignity,  and  then  stepped  grandly  down,  the 
footman  assisting  him  with  great  deference.  The 
two  in  front  soon  reached  the  horses'  heads  and  stood 
eyeing  the  old  man  as  if  afraid  to  bat  their  eyes. 


MARRIED  THE  WIDOW  319 

'•Howdee  do  Marse  John — to  be  sho' — glad  to  see 
you.  Come,  nigger,  bresh  me  off.  Step  lively,  now! 
Dar,  get  de  dust  off  en  my  shoes — be  pe'art." 

"Why,  Wash,"  I  began,  "what  is  all  this?" 

He  waved  his  hands  grandiloquently.  "  Don't  men 
tion  it — don't  mention  it,  sah.  Them  am  my  Chauncey 
DePew,  Plowden  Van  Bibber  an'  Micajah  Somerset — 
all  niggers  uv  mine.  Step  lively  dere,  boys,  an'  tek 
dem  turkeys  in  to  Miss  Mary,  I  fotcht  'em  to  her  for 
er  Christmas  gift — thou't  she'd  lak  'em,"  he  added  to 
me. 

"Why,  shell  be  delighted,"  I  began  again. 

"Don't  mention  it — don't  mention  it,  boss,  it's 
my  time  to  give  now — you's  bin  kin'  nuff  to  me. 
Don't  mention  it,  'tall." 

"Will  you  come  in?"  I  asked  meekly,  at  the  same 
time  wondering  if  I  had  a  room  in  the  house  fine  enough 
for  him. 

"To  be  sho' — to  be  sho' — dat's  what  I  come  fur- 
to  come  in.  What  yo'  reckin  I'd  make  dem  niggers 
drive  me  ten  miles  fur,  if  it  wa'nt  jes'  to  see  you  an' 
have  an'  ole  time  talk?  Here,  Plowden  Van  Bibber, 
fetch  me  dat  bundle,  it's  er  leetle  present  fur  yo, 
Marse  John." 

In  the  library  I  offered  him  the  best  chair  by  the  fire. 
He  wiped  his  silk  hat  and  laid  it  gently  down,  parted 
his  coat-tail  and  took  his  seat. 

I  had  not  yet  recovered  my  breath,  and  not  knowing 
what  to  do,  I  got  out  his  Christmas  present. 

"Thankee,  Marse  John,  to  be  sho',  thankee.  But  I's 
focht  you  all  er  presen' — er  quart  uv  club  cocktail, 


320  "UNCLE  WASH" 

extry  old — an'  er  box  uv  fine  cigars.  I  fin'  dese  things 
suit  de  ole  man's  stomach-sake  better'n  er  cob  pipe  an' 
crude  licker — so  I's  usin'  'em  now." 

He  set  them  out  with  a  majestic  wave  of  his  hand — 
the  merest  trifle. 

"Great  heaven!"  I  gasped — "drinkin'  this  kind 
of  stuff  an'  ownin'  darkies,  too?" 

The  old  man  laughed.  "You  kno'  I's  allers  wanted 
to  own  er  few  niggers  ever  since  I  remember  how  happy 
ole  Marster  an'  me  useter  be  wid  'em.  I's  allers 
thou't  dey  ought  to  be  some  land  whar  er  gem'man 
cu'd  own  er  few  niggers  an'  it  ud  be  nobody's  bizness, 
but  I  nurver  thou't  I'd  be  dat  forchunit  myse'f." 

"How  did  you  get  them,  then?" 

"Marri'd  'em — boss — an'  dey's  jes'  eight  or  ten 
mo'  on  'em — some  gals,  too — all  likely  en'  peart — not 
to  mention  dey  mammy — de  widder  dat  wus.  But 
she  ain't  er  widder  no  mo' — neither  grass  nor  sod. 
Ay,  yas,  I  b'leeves  I  will  try  dat  cock-tail — it  hepes  me 
pow'ful — can  tell  you  all  erbout  it  better." 

He  wiped  his  mouth  on  a  silk  handkerchief  and  went 
on:  "You  see,  it  all  come  erbout  through  dat  ole  Hal 
marr — Lord  bless  her! — It  was  her  colt  dat  done  de 
bizness.  Las'  Jinuwary  er  year  ergo  I  'suaded  er 
Yankee  gem'man  dat  stopped  over  at  C'lumbia  on  his 
way  to  Fluridy  for  his  health — an',  lak  all  sech,  he 
had  mo'  money  dan  he  had  hoss  sense — dat  de  only 
thing  dat  lay  between  him  ownin'  de  champ'yun  pacer 
uv  de  universe  an'  me  ownin'  him  was  jes'  de  pittiful 
little  sum  uv  fo'  thousan'  dollars  uv  his  frenzied  finance, 
an',  boss,  he  gin  it  up  so  easy— lak  he  thou't  it  wus 


MARRIED  THE  WIDOW  321 

unbranded  wet  goods,  an'  he  was  afeared  some  New- 
nited  States  rivernue  officer  would  find  'em  in  his 
possesshun. " 

"Oh,  that  explains  it — but  I  thought  you  had 
married  it  with  that  thirteenth  wife— 

"Marse  John,"  said  the  old  man,  sadly,  " ain't  you 
done  live  long  enuff  to  kno'  dat  er  po'  devil  wid  one  hoss 
got  erbout  es  much  chance  to  marry  er  rich  widder  es 
er  Dimmycrat  baby  has  to  be  President  some  day? 
No,  sah,  I  put  dat  money  in  er  good  farm  wid  er  pritty 
leetle  home — jes'  de  kinder  trap  to  ketch  de  bird  I 
wus  arter — an',  altho'  dey  was  er  dozen  young  niggers 
arter  her,  pickin'  de  light  catarrh  an'  blowin'  sonnets 
to  de  moon,  she  'lowed  dey  all  look  to  her  mighty  lak 
dey  had  cold  feet  compared  to  dat  farm  an'  home. " 

He  chuckled — delighted.  He  rubbed  his  hands  and 
took  another  cocktail. 

"Oh,  I  was  in  fine  fix  for  matrermony — er  crib 
full  uv  cohn,  twenty  likely  shoats,  cows,  chickens, 
pum'kins,  taters,  an'  no  tech  uv  de  rumatizn  in  my 
back.  I  knowed  she'd  had  several  husban's  befo'- 
some  on  'em  dead  an'  some  runnin'  fer  de  Legislatur 
an'  some  on  'em  runnin'  on  Pullman  cars.  She  nuver 
tole  me  she  had  anything  else,  an'  we  went  on  our  bridal 
tower  happy  es  larks,  an'  uv  all  my  wives,  thinks  I, 
dis  am  de  Jewell.  Her  name  was  Marinet,  an'  she 
was  de  fines'  'oman  I  ever  spliced  up  wid.  Wai,  sah, 
when  we  come  back — Lord,  boss,  it  was  awful— 
ernudder  cocktail  to  brace  me  up — ah !  thankee — wal, 
when  we  come  home  an'  I  looked  out  I  thou't  de 
deestrick  skule  was  gwine  on  in  my  yard — it  was 
21 


322  "UNCLE  WASH" 

liter'lly  lined  wid  niggers.  Dey  was  so  thick  dat  who 
ever  focht  'em  cuden't  git  'em  all  in  de  house  an'  had 
put  some  on  'em  in  de  chicken  coop  an'  hen-house. 
Leastwise,  dey  was  dar,  an'  I  gin  'em  de  bennyfit  uv  de 
doubt,  altho'  it  mout  er  bin  instinct. 

"  'What's  all  dat?"  sez  I  to  de  widder,  gaspin'  for  , 
my  breath. 

"  'Oh,  dat's  our  dear  chillun  dat  have  come  home!'  * 
an'  wid  dat  she  jumped  out  an'  sech  er  kissin'  an' 
huggin'  you  never  seed.     It  look  lak  de  yard  wus  full 
uv  leetle  mushrooms  sprung  up  in  de  night. 

"  '  Jes'  er  leetle  sprize  for  you,  dear  Luv,  jes'  er  leetle 
sprize.  Ain't  dey  too  sweet  fur  eny  thing?  Uv  course 
I  didn't  tell  you  'bout  it — thou't  I'd  sprize  you!'  an' 
den  she  kissed  me  so  grateful  lak/ 

"  'Wai,  you's  done  it,'  sez  I,  pantin'  fur  breath — 
'not  one,  but  whut  I'd  call  er  covey  uv  sprizes — an' 
you  right  sho'  dey  ain't  none  uv  'em  wandered  off? 
I  shudn't  lak  for  any  mo'  to  bob  up  unexpected — 
I  mout  not  be  able  to  stan'  de  shock. ' 

"  'Oh,  no,'  she  sez,  'dey  am  all  heah.  Come, 
chillun,  an'  kiss  yo'  Paw.' 

"Wid  dat  dey  piled  on  me,  all  on  'em  wanted  to  kiss 
dey  Paw,  an'  all  at  once.  I  wus  smothered  in  er  sea 
uv  black  an'  ole  gold,  an'  throwed  up  on  er  beach  uv 
wet  lips.  Dey  piled  on  me  till  I  wus  purple.  You'd  er 
thort  I  wus  de  football's  haf-back  wid  all  de  yuhders 
on  top.  Some  uv  de  gals  wus  nigh  grown  an'  right 
peart,  an'  I  don't  mind  dey  huggin'  me  so  much,  but 
some  wan't  even  weaned— dat  is,  dey  didn't  'pear  ter 
smell  lak  dey  wus!  Den  she  kiss  me  erg'in  and  sed: 

I 


MARRIED  THE  WIDOW  323 

"  'See  how  I  luves  yo'  Paw?  Dat's  deway  I  wants 
you  all  to  luve  him/ 

"  'We  all  luves  our  Paw  now/  dey  yells,  an'  wid  dat 
dey  kivered  me  ergain. 

"At  de  supper  table  whilst  dey  made  holes  in  de 
batter-cakes,  biskets  an'  bac'n,  I  larnt  all  de  names. 
De  widder  was  literary  an'  had  got  'em  all  outen  books. 
Startin'  wid  de  bigger  gals,  dar  was  Milcah  an'  Ho- 
sannah  an'  Sillawasha,  an'  Cokeette  an'  five  or  six  mo' 
gals,  endin'  wid  Rowena  de  leettle's  one.  De  boys  was 
Chauncey  DePew,  an'  Plowden  Van  Bibber,  an' 
Micajah  Somerset  an'  Russell  an'  yudders  an'  all  on 
'em  wus  eatin'  bac'n  lak  er  sausage  mill. 

"  'Dey  are  sech  healthy,  happy,  jolly  dears/  sez 
she,  'wid  so  much  pussonality.  What  er  sponserbility 
Gawd  puts  on  parents — what  er  problem!' 

"  For  onct  de  widder  had  struck  de  key  note  uv  my 
thorts — de  problem  wid  me  was  how  long  my  cobn 
an'  yaller  chickens  'ud  last. 

"Wai,  sah,  you  nurver  seed  chillun  luve  dey  Paw  lak 
dey  did  me  fur  erbout  er  week.  When  bedtime  come 
all  de  leetle  ones  wanted  to  sleep  wid  dey  Paw.  We 
put  down  comforts  all  over  de  house  an'  den  had  to  put 
five  kids  in  de  bed  wid  us.  It  was  tar'bul.  Oh,  yes, 
boss,  some  mo'  uv  dat  cocktail — ever  time  I'd  move  I'd 
stick  my  toe  in  er  coon's  mouth,  ever  time  I'd  turn  over 
I'd  mash  one.  An'  what  you  reckin  dat  chap  ud  do 
— squall  out  an'  bite  me,  boss.  It  seems  lake  dey  been 
tort  when  dey  got  mad  to  bite.  I  soon  larned  dey 
was  spiled  an'  had  other  tricks  lak  yaller  dogs  sides 
bitin',  and  dat  week  was  tar'bul.  Dey  didn't  do 


324  "UNCLE  WASH" 

nuffin  but  dress  up  an'  eat  an'  git  mad  an'  bite  one 
nur'r.  Dey  had  no  notion  uv  wuckin'.  Dey  objec' 
in  life  seems  to  be  to  see  how  quick  dey  cu'd  eat  up  all 
I  had.  De  widder  was  jes'  es  bad,  an'  spent  all  her 
time  dressin'  'em  up.  I  spent  my  days  calk'latin'  how 
long  it  ud  be  befo'  dey  would  eat  up  my  cohn,  an'  my 
nights  tryin'  to  keep  from  bein'  et  up  myse'f.  I'd  lay 
wake  and  heah  'em  talkin'  in  dey  sleep  bout  de 
poultry  bizness,  an'  snorin',  and  den  I'd  gaze  way  off 
through  de  winder  an'  look  at  de  stars,  an'  ever'  bunch 
uv  'em  ud  be  thirteen.  Den  I  groan  an'  count  de 
chilluns,  an'  dey  'ud  be  thirteen !  It  was  tar'bul'.  Yes 
— anur'r  leetle  drap  outen  dat  bottle.  Thankee. 

"  But  I  wus  mighty  pashent  fur  er  week  tryin'  to 
lead  'em  in  de  straight  an'  narrer  path.  It  wa'nt  no 
use — dey  luvefur  dey  Paw  didn't  go  beyond  decohn- 
crib  or  de  hen  house. 

"Den  dey  all  got  sassy  an'  sassed  me.  I  stood  it  till 
they  begin  to  call  me  old  niggah  Methusalem — kase 
I  was  ole  an'  black  an'  dey  was  yaller,  an'  'sineratin' 
dat  I  couldn't  whip  er  kitten !  I  seed  de  time  was  ripe 
fur  action,  an'  dat  night  I  acted.  I  hid  er  good  rawhide 
hosswhip  under  de  bed  an'  by  it  I  put  er  copperlined 
washboa'd  wid  er  extry  strong  handle.  Arter  supper 
I  got  'em  all  in  de  settin'-room  an'  locked  de  door  an' 
put  de  key  in  my  pocket. 

"  'What's  you  gwinter  do?'  say  de  widder. 

"  'We're  all  gwinter  have  fam'bly  prayers/  sez  I; 
'bein,  es  I  am  er  deacon  in  de  Baptis'  Church,  an'  I's 
kinder  neglected  it  uv  late.' 

"  'Oh,  rats,'  sez  all  on  'em  at  onct. 


MARRIED  THE  WIDOW  325 

"Den  sez  I,  sorter  calm  lak:  Ts  gwinter  break  all 
dese  colts  over  to  harness.  Dey  don't  seem  ter  wanter 
pull  on  er  cold  collar,  an'  dey  balk  an'  have  got  wheels 
in  dey  haids— 

"She  riz  up  mad  as  er  hornet:  'Dey  ain't  got  eny- 
thing  in  dey  haids/  she  sez.  'I  thank  you  'I  take  keer 
uv  my  chillun!' 

"  'After  I  break  'em  over  ergin',  sez  I,  Ts  gwinter 
baptize  'em  all  in  Bigby  Creek  nex'  Sunday/ 

"  'Not  much/  sez  de  widder,  'we  is  'Piscopaliums/ 

"  '  Yes,  we  is  'Piscopaliums,  ole  nigger/  sez  all  on  'em. 

"  'Wai,  you'll  be  Baptis'  when  I  get  through  wid 
you/  I  sez,  an'  I  grabbed  my  rawhide  an'  let  in. 

"De  widder  come  at  me  lak  er  wildcat,  but  I  hadn't 
put  de  washboa'd  dar  fur  nuffin,  an'  I  laid  her  out  de 
fust  lick — jes'  had  to  do  it,  boss — had  to  do  it.  Der 
is  times  when  er  man  has  got  to  lick  his  wife,  but  he 
orter  do  it  gently,  lak  I  did.  I  seed  her  tumble  over 
on  de  bed  in  er  dead  faint,  but  I  knowed  she  had  plenty 
uv  wool  an'  er  mighty  hard  haid  whar  I  hit,  an'  she'd 
be  through  ergin  by  daylight. 

"Wai,  wid  de  old  bird  knocked  out,  dis  jes'  par'- 
lyzed  de  covey,  an'  I  frailed  'em  out  from  Milcah  to 
Rowena.  I  had  'em  on  de  mourners'  bench — I  had 
'em  beggin'  to  be  led  to  de  creek,  I  had  'em  meek  es 
lambs  an'  settin'  'round  quiet  an'  humble.  Den  I 
bathed  de  widder's  face  till  she  come  through  an'  sot 
up,  humble  lak,  and  full  uv  penertence. 

'Whut-whut-whut's   happen?"   she  sez. 

"  'Nothin',  Maw/  sez  Milcah,  sweet  lak.  Taw  he's 
jes'  made  us  all  Baptis/ 


326  "UNCLE  WASH" 

"  'An'  dat  ain't  all/  I  sez.  'I  been  studyin'  yo' 
names  an*  I's  gwinter  see  whut  yo'  Maw  intended  you 
all  to  be  when  she  named  you  all  dem  hifolutin'names. 

"  'Whut  yo'  name,  gal?'  I  sez. 

"  'Milcah,  sah!' 

"  'Wai/  sez  I,  'I  studied  dat  out.  You'll  find  it  in 
de  Bible.  It's  jes'  Hebrew  fer  plain  ole  milker,  an' 
you  go  to  de  cow  barn  de  fust  thing  at  daybreak', 
sez  I.  'You  maw  is  sho'  er  genius  fur  gettin'  de  right 
name.' 

"  'Yas,  sir,  Paw,'  she  sez. 

"  'What's  yo'  name,  nex'?' 

"  'Hosannah,  sah.' 

"  'Dat,'  sez  I  didn't  take  much  study.  Hose  is 
stockins  an'  Annah  is  plain  ole  Hannah,  an'  it  means 
Hannah  darnin'  stockins.  Go  at  it  at  onct.  I'll  let 
you  be  de  seamstress  fur  dis  house,  too,  an*  frum  now 
on  yo'  name  is  Hannah.' 

"  'Yassir,  Paw.' 

"  'Whut's  yo'   name,  nex'?' 

"  'Cokette,  sah/ 

"  'Dat's  French  fer  cookin'/  sez  I.  'You  git  into 
dat  kitchen  by  daybreak'  Yo'  maw  is  er  genius  fur 
names/ 

"  'Yassir,  Paw/ 

"  'Whut's  yo'  name,  gal?' 

"  'Sillawasha,  sah/ 

"  'Oh/  sez  I,  'dat's  dead  easy.  It  looks  Latin, 
but  it's  plain  English.  Anybody  cu'd  see  dat  Gawd 
intended  you  fer  de  wash  tub. 

"  'Yassir,  Paw/ 


MARRIED  THE  WIDOW  327 

Den  I  turns  to  de  big,  strappin'  boys.  'What's  yo' 
name,  sah?' 

"  'Plowden  Van  Bibber,  sah.' 

"  'Dat's  Dutch,'  sez  I,  'but  mighty  plain  to  er  man 
dat  knows  de  langwedge  lak  yo'  Paw  does.  Plowden 
mean  plowin',  an'  Van  Bibber  is  Dutch  fur  down  by  de 
river.  It  seems  providential  dat  yo'  name  fits  dat 
river  bottom  fiel'  so  handy!  All  you  need  is  er  mule 
an'  plow  an'  you'll  fin'  'em  in  de  barn  at  daylight. 
Git  at  it.' 

"  'Yassir,  Paw.' 

"  'What's  yo'  name,  sonny?' 

"  'Micajah  Somerset,  sah!' 

"Dat/  sez  I,  'would  puzzle  enybody  but  er  scholar. 
Micajah  is  Greek  for  Mek-hay-sah,  an'  Somerset  is  ole 
Saxon  fur  befo'  de  sun  set.  Dat  clover  field  needs 
you  bad,  an'  yo'  name  fits  it  to  er  nat's  heel!' 

"  'Yassir,  Paw.' 

'Russell  is  mine,  sah,'  sed  de  nex' one — er  black 
kid.     'Whut's  dat  fur?' 

"  'Dat's  jes'  plain  nigger  for  hustle,'  sez  I,  'an'  you 
can  start  in  de  cohnfield  to-morrow.  An'  ef  you  belie 
yo'  name  you'll  ketch  dis  rawhide  ergain'.' 

"  'Yassir,    boss.' 

"  'Chauncey  DePew,  sah,  at  yo'  sarvice!' 

"  'Now,'  sez  I,  'Chauncey,  you  may  think  yo'  was 
cut  out  fur  makin'  after-dinner  speeches  an'  borryin' 
frenzied  finance  frum  yo'self  in  de  Equitabul,  but  frum 
now  on  de  great  pi'nt  wid  you  is  to  fust  earn  yo'  dinner. 
Chauncey  is  de  Saxon  fur  Churnin' — you'll  be  mighty 
handy  in  de  dairy.  De  rest  uv  yo'  name  suggests  dat 


328  "UNCLE  WASH" 

de  Baptis'  church  needs  cleanin'  up  twice  er  week, 
arter  prayer  meetin'  an'  Sunday  sarvice,  an'  I  jes'  let 
you  tek  care  uv  de  pews/ 

"Oh,  I  had  'em  all  fixed.  Do  leetle  'un  climbed  in 
my  lap  an'  de  widder  sed,  sorter  mean  lak:  'Dat's 
Rowena— you  sho'  done  figur  out  whut  her  name 
mean?' 

'Yes/  sez  I — still  holdin'  er  good  grip  on  de  wash- 
boa'd — 'Ro  is  de  Greek  for  time — an'  de  rest  is  easy: 
Time-to-ween  'er.  I's  gwinter  sleep  in  peace  to-night/ 
sez  I/ 

:  'Oh/  she  sez,  still  sassy  lak — 'an'  my  name  is 
Marinet — maybe  you  think  it  means  somethin'/ 

'I  do/  sez  1,  'you  got  er  good  home  an'  ergood 
husban'  an'  father  for  you'  children,  but  Marinet  is  de 
French  fur  er  marryin'-yet,  an'  ef  you  don't  walk  er 
chalk-line  frum  now  on,  dat's  whut  you'll  be  doin' — 
er  wife  without  er  job— unless  you  can  fool  some  other 
nigger.  An'  sence  we're  all  Baptis'  we'll  now  have 
prayer/  an'  Boss,  you  never  heard  sech  h'art-felt 
petestions  es  they  put  up. 

"Boss,  you  nurver  seed  enything  wuck  lak  it  did. 
I  put  'em  to  wuck  an'  kep  'em  at  it,  an'  sech  craps  as 
we  made.  Every  one  uv  'em  mor'n  paid  fur  hisse'f 
an'  I  got  mo'  money  in  de  bank  den  we  can  spen'. 
I's  allers  wanted  to  own  er  few  niggers  an'  now  I's 
makin'  it  pay.  Dat's  why  I  go  in  style.  It  seems 
to  me  I's  solved  de  nigger  problem/' 

"How?"  I  asked. 

"Wy,  jes'  keep  'cm  busy—keep  'cm  busy— <lat's 
de  p'int. 


MARRIED  THE  WIDOW  329 

"But  I  must  go — come  to  see  me  an*  fetch  nothin' 
but  yo'  appetite." 

"Wash,  let  us  test  this  club  cocktail  before  you  go. 
Here's  to  you — why,  old  man,  you've  drunk  up  your 

gift." 

"To  be  sho' — to  be  sho.'  Didn't  you  set  dar  an' 
see  me  do  it?  Ain't  I  done  tole  you  often  to  be  lib'ral 
an'  give,  but  ef  you're  smart,  you'll  fix  yo'  triggers  so 
you'll  more'n  git  it  back  erg'in?" 

At  the  door  I  heard  him  say:  "Step  lively,  you 
niggers!  You's  got  to  kill  hogs  when  you  git  home!" 


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JESUS  OF 
NAZARETH 

IN  THE 

LIGHT  OF  TO-DAY 

By  ELBERT  RUSSELL 

Professor  in  Earlham  College 
Author  of  "The  Parables  of  Jesus" 

AN  INTERESTING  MODERN  VIEW-POINT 

In  this  book  Professor  Russell  makes  "an 
effort  to  show  Jesus  in  His  saving  truth  and 
power  to  those  who  may  be  alienated  from 
the  Christ  of  past  generations."  The  result 
is  clear  and  impressive. 

The  author  considers  the  character  of  the 
Saviour  reverently  yet  without  passion.  As 
suming  the  standpoint  of  the  intelligent  man 
of  to-day,  — "who  thinks  in  terms  of  the 
evolutionary  philosophy  and  who  presup 
poses  the  commonly  accepted  results  of 
Biblical  criticism" —  he  makes  a  fresh  inter 
pretation,  simple  and  popular  in  method  and 
positive  and  religiously  helpful  in  its  result, 
of  the  historical  character  and  spiritual 
significance  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth. 

12mo.   5Hy  71  inches.    112  pages.    Silt  Cloth 

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THE  AUTOBIOGRAPHY 

OF 

ALLEN  JAY 

THE  LIFE  OF  A  WELL  KNOWN  FRIEND 

Allen  Jay  is  one  of  the  best  known  mem 
bers  of  the  Society  of  Friends,  and  his  long 
life  of  seventy-eight  years  has  been  almost 
entirely  devoted  to  religious  and  benevolent 
work. 

The  author's  life  is  so  intimately  connected 
with  the  modern  history  of  Friends,  both  in 
America  and  other  countries,  that  this  volume 
will  be  of  the  greatest  interest,  not  only  to 
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Allen  Jay  touches  on  many  subjects,  such  as 
the  following : 

Randolph  Meeting  at  Dayton,  Ohio ;  the 
Millerites  and  Spiritualists;  West  Branch 
Quarterly  Meeting ;  the  Friends  in  Indiana, 
and^  Greenfield  Monthly  Meeting.  Allen  Jay's 
beginnings  in  the  Ministry ;  the  Civil  War ; 
the  Draft  and  the  Anti-Slavery  Separation 
in  Indiana  Yearly  Meeting;  Allen  Jay's 
Activity  Among  Friends  in  Maryland,  North 
Carolina,  and  Tennessee;  Conditions  in  Car 
olina  at  the  Close  of  the  Civil  War;  the  Balti 
more  Association;  Work  of  Francis  T.  King, 
John  Scott  and  other  Friends;  Allen  Jay's 
Visits  and  Work  in  Great  Britain  and  Nor 
way;  at  Friends'  Boarding  School  in  Provi 
dence,  Rhode  Island;  Earlham  College  and 
its  History;  the  Five  Years'  Meeting;  Cali 
fornia  Yearly  Meeting;  Guilford,  Earlham 
and  Whittier  Colleges ;  Work  in  Oregon, 
Washington,  North  Carolina  and  Nebraska. 

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THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 


